Now We Are (Forty) Six

Hmph. I wonder who invented birthdays? Who first realized that the world turned 'round, and called it a year, and coined the word annual, and then decided that lighting small waxen strings on top of a highly sugared confection should be accompanied by a recitation of the Hill sisters' little ditty? Because it's all his/her fault. That's all I'm saying.

And that being said, the downhill side of forty isn't so bad. It does seem to require more supplementation of the health food aisle variety. I don't know how I managed to survive almost a half century without them, but apparently at this point I require:

1. A one-a-day vitamin. For women, of course, none of this macho stuff.

2. A B complex vitamin, for all the invisible goodness I apparently miss out on if I don't eat cows.

3. Calcium, but not for strong bones. It's just to have bones at all, at this point. We're in batten-the-hatches mode now.

4. An 81 mg aspirin, which used to be baby aspirin when I was a baby and is now old people aspirin now that I'm.... not a baby. It seems to be weirdly shadowing my life. And it's not even St. Joseph's orange flavored anymore; it's coated for my protection. Sheesh.

5. Flaxseed oil, for the mysterious Omega-3's, which I would get if only I scarfed down oily fish every day which won't happen in this lifetime or the next.

6. Glucosamine/chondroitin. You don't want to know the origin of the magic arthritis pills, which I recommend on a daily basis for aged dogs. Then I have the same conversation with the owner: "Hey, I'm on that too!" says the owner, and I chuckle and admit that I am as well. The other day, a gentleman showed me his swollen toe and we compared symptoms, after which I contemplated shooting myself.

7. Hoodia. Just to see if it works. Not so far, in case you're wondering.

Speaking of which, they also have this new way to live longer, where you just essentially stop eating. They did an experiment where rats were fed a diet with 25% fewer calories than rats who were allowed to eat unrestricted, and the skinny rats lived longer. Or, as they say, it just seemed longer. (Rimshot!) I think I'll rely on my good genes and less on starvation if I'm going to live to be 100.