Rant about aging

For years I believed that I had received a special dispensation from God or somebody. I would always be 37. Other people could age, but as for me, I preferred not to. Along with this went the delusion that although I was gaining weight, I was the same normal-sized person, I only weighed more. Looking at myself in the mirror, if I squinted and held myself the right way and the light was just right, I looked pretty good.

I found out that God had lost my phone number when I saw, in a plate glass window, an ugly old lady with a frown on her face, approaching me. To add insult to injury, she was wearing the same clothes I was. She was also kind of, well, fat. It was me!

I want a do-over.