I am a terrible cook. I'm awful at anything having to do with math. There's no such thing as a 'green thumb' in my world. And I'm a total failure at assembling the most basic of tables from Target. But...I am an expert at one thing: My body.
I've resided in this body for 50+ years. I've been with it through thick and thin - literally. It's taken me to some wonderful places, and it's helped me see beautiful and amazing things. I have the utmost of respect and gratitude for it. And I know it better than anyone else on Earth. We've had a great journey so far, this body and I, and I'm thankful that we're still going. Kinda sorta...
All this proper care and feeding maybe, just maybe, has s-l-o-w-e-d the aging process down a teensy bit. But I'd ask that you indulge and allow me, for therapy's sake, to scrutinize and inventory, top to bottom, inside and outside, the changes. I'm not going to throw a pity party, and I promise I'll try not to complain (too much), but I do have this burning desire to wallow in my observations and insecurities one more time as I elaborate on all that time and gravity has done!
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