Red Wine Fueled Musings of an Embarrassingly Average Senior Lady
I feel so grown up. You see, I’m drinking a glass of wine!
All by myself! In front of my laptop!
I feel downright Sylvia Plath-ish.
I can’t remember the last time I did this. Mainly because I’m two sips in and already feeling it in my head. What a lightweight!
Furthermore, this wine is red. 14 Hands Hot to Trot Smooth Red Blend. I like it, actually. Which is a little surprising.
You see, I am not a huge red wine fan. I prefer something light, a little fruity but dry, not sweet but not overly acidic. Like Pinot Grigio, some Chardonnays, or even a bubbly Prosecco. None of which go to my head after two sips.
Speaking of going to my head, I need a feckin haircut so bad my mirror won’t even look at me anymore.
I am relieved that winter is coming so I can hide my shame beneath a fun knitted hat.
You see, I love my hairdresser like a sister, but I also detect that she is an anti-vaxxer. Last time I was there she shared that she would not be getting the vaccine because she has an immune system issue. Then went on to tell me that she believed her husband had gotten the virus early in the pandemic so she possibly had covid anti-bodies. Then finished by telling me she thinks she has a good immune system and would likely be okay if she got sick.
It all seemed vaguely contradictory to me, but I hope to God she is right. Because I do love her a lot.
So for the time being, I am trimming my own hair while waiting, with mounting frustration and disappointment, for the virus to stop killing us.
And yes, I look like shit.
Anyway, what was I talking about? Oh, Red Wine!
The reason I’m sipping red wine in spite of it’s curiously inebriating effects on me is that my doctor gave me the “You have six months to get it together or you will need to go on medication for your pre-diabetes, high cholesterol issues” lecture.
Ugh! So the reality of my situation is that I am not a special 63 year old highly fit and probably gonna live to 95 years old American woman, despite my past life as an aerobics instructor. I’m so ordinary and average it disgusts me.
You mean all that kicking and scratching (as the old man loved to refer to it back in the day) did not provide me with residual immunity to these diseases of lifestyle so exasperatingly common to the typical aging American? WTH?
Of course the old man and I discussed this because we basically take all our meals together. And sleep together. And tag around with one another, (and Cosmo), pretty much 24/7. Which takes a toll sometimes.
But that is a different post of a more delicate nature and we won’t get into that here.
So after a little discussion about how we need to change our diets to keep me from dying, he suggested I should start drinking a glass of red wine a day. Which was crafty, because he doesn’t drink. But he does eat a lot. So this one dietary change he suggested I should try to get my lipid levels down will have zero effect on his culinary life. See. Crafty.
But what the hell. I’m game. Far be it from me to change the status quo around here just because I might die at any moment from embarrassingly run of the mill causes if I don’t get my shit together soon.
So here I am, drinking my glass of wine, wobbly in the head, losing my train of thought, battling a red wine headache.
And this is just day one.
Something tells me it’s going to be a long six months.
I hope you are faring well peeps.
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