My daughter, who is nine, was telling me the other day some of the new words in the dictionary. I'm not sure WHICH dictionary it was, but the one that caught my attention was "woot." I don't actually remember any of the other words she was talking about because I was just so darn tickled that I knew one of them, my ears lost their ability to hear after "woot."
I was excited because, lately, I have been really feeling someone's age; someone who I figure is at least ten years older than me. I don't think approaching 50 is old. Heck, I don't think approaching 60 is old, actually, but I am just not ready for all the tired, achy and breaky feelings that I'm having at "approaching 50."
And I feel like I'm getting more and more disorganized every day. I used to blame my disorganization on juggling too many balls at once, but I have since dropped a few, and the ones that are still in the air are getting more slippery and more difficult to focus on.
Like on Sunday, for instance, I went all-out and made German comfort food like only a Swede could. I bought frozen knoephla, boiled it and made half of it into knoephla soup and the other half into whatever you call the sausage, knoephla and kraut concoction. And it took me 'bout all afternoon. It was delicious, but I was exhausted by the time we ate supper.
I try to exercise every morning at dark thirty, at least five days a week. I try not to eat too much. I try to get enough sleep. But none of it is stopping my slow progression into dinosaurdom.
So call me silly, but knowing the definition of "woot" BEFORE my daughter explained it to me just boosted my approaching 50 ego a little bit.
Dawn
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