When you've reached the age I have, there is plenty to self-reflect on. If you don't want to self-reflect, someone will hold the mirror to your face anyway, and MAKE you do it! It's bad enough that I do look in the mirror every morning and wonder what nightmares I had the night before. As soon as I hit the remote, they're telling me on t.v. that I've got a pile of wrinkles that need to be taken care of. I also need to lose weight and get my lips injected. It's a hell of a way to start the day to be told you LOOK like hell.

Oh well, I think to myself, what do I care about looks at this age anyway? At this point in my life I'm supposed to be reflecting on the INNER me. Not the inner me such as creaky joints and gas problems; no, the inner SPIRITUAL me: Who is the TRUE me? What am I all about? Where have I been and where am I going? I must be dumber than a stump, because after fifty years I am still asking these same stupid questions. I feel even dumber when some twenty-something DOES have the answers to these questions. I'm thinking she must have got hold of the exam questions before the test was given, which only makes me feel worse because I wasn't smart enough to figure out how to get hold of the exam myself!

I should be thankful for who I am and where I'm at today. It could be worse. Isn't that what someone always says, "It could be worse"? Just what does that mean, "it could be worse"? Instead of eating canned cat food, I could be eating roadkill? Come to think of it, I have known people who've eaten roadkill, so I guess I should be thankful. I'm looking forward to "Fancy Feast" tonight! No, really, I'm just joking. I don't even have to eat cat food with all the game my husband kills. And the deer doesn't have to lay on the road first before we can eat it!

At least I can still dance. Last night I went to a semi-formal dance. Where I live, that means the men must wear a suit coat with their jeans and cowboy boots. I dress up a little more than that. My outfit consisted of a black and white tank top with large plastic jewels sewn on it. Under that I wore a black skirt and nylons, with silver sandals with plastic diamonds glued to the front strap. It all looked very chic. I felt very sexy and graceful as my husband and I waltzed around the dance floor.

Have you ever had anyone step on your foot with a spike heel? Of course the woman who stepped on my big toe looked terribly embarrassed and apologized profusely. I told her it was nothing, (to spare her feelings of course). Meanwhile, I'm muttering to myself, "it was nothing, you only broke two of my toes". When I got back to our table, I noticed there was a big hole in my black nylons where my big toe stuck out, flashing it's silver nail polish like a beacon in the night. There's no scenario like this to deflate your feelings of sexiness, and needless to say, the night ended abruptly and we went home.

All-in-all, when I do self-reflect, I realize that I really am a lucky woman. At least I'm alive to LOOK in the mirror and have someone step on my toes (literally and figuratively)! Life may not always be what I want it to be, but it could be worse! Instead of dodging spike heels, I could be a gopher dodging semi trucks!

Learn more about this author, Becca Behrent.
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