Except my skin’s not all wrinkly and I don’t have liver spots. But otherwise…
You know that noise old people make when they sit down? It’s part grunt and part fart, but it all comes from the mouth? Like, as they go to sit, no matter how slowly they move, there’s a point at which they have to like pressurize the cabin or something and this noise comes out. I make that noise when I go to sit down. Hell, sometimes I make that noise when I’m already sitting, like maybe I forgot on the way down or something.
There’s another thing old people do. They’ll be there, standing, sitting, whatever, and they just kind of groan. Just, “Ennnghf.” It sounds like when your house shifts on a windy night, but if your house were an eighty-year-old body. I do that one too.
I’m also never 100% sure I’ll be able to get back up again. I lied down to pet the dog at my sister’s house, but only because my brother-in-law has an Xbox and some good games. Lying on the floor is quite the risk, one I’ll only take in places I’m prepared to stay for a day or three. And even if I can get back up, it’s quite a process. I have to balance areas that hurt and ration which one I’m putting weigh on at any given moment. Too much weigh on too many spots and I’m doing a faceplant wherever I am.
And I can fall asleep like I was born to do it. Just because I’m awake for one sentence does not mean I’ll be awake for the following one. Which is a far cry better than when I was younger and would lie awake for hours trying to fall asleep. But still: no warning. I close my eyes and I’m gone. I can’t control it.
So, I guess it’s time to start wearing my pants up to my nipples and yelling at the neighborhood kids and be horribly, flagrantly racist but it’ll be okay because I’m just stuck in my ways. If I’m going to feel old, I may as well get the perks.