Turning 50, whoa.
I am now officially invisible. I think it started around 47.
I used to be the the highly visible babe, but slowly, quietly, through raising children, working stressful jobs, taking care of elderly parents, it hit....invisible.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not whining. ... I get it, I now have super powers.
I am Invisa-Gal.
I wear a cape (okay it's a poncho) not because I'm hiding fat, it's in case I need to fly off to solve some problem, like who gets to use the Wii first or where's the dog's leash or which Medicare part D program should my friend chose for her father?
Being invisible has it's perks:
1. I can shoplift
2. No need to use the lintbrush on the velvet pants, no one is looking.
3. It doesn't matter if I put on makeup to walk down the street, no one is looking = no one sees me.
4. I can indeed blow my nose at the red light and check for boogers in my rear view mirror.
See what I mean? Perks is perks.
I am now officially invisible. I think it started around 47.
I used to be the the highly visible babe, but slowly, quietly, through raising children, working stressful jobs, taking care of elderly parents, it hit....invisible.
Don't get me wrong, I'm not whining. ... I get it, I now have super powers.
I am Invisa-Gal.
I wear a cape (okay it's a poncho) not because I'm hiding fat, it's in case I need to fly off to solve some problem, like who gets to use the Wii first or where's the dog's leash or which Medicare part D program should my friend chose for her father?
Being invisible has it's perks:
1. I can shoplift
2. No need to use the lintbrush on the velvet pants, no one is looking.
3. It doesn't matter if I put on makeup to walk down the street, no one is looking = no one sees me.
4. I can indeed blow my nose at the red light and check for boogers in my rear view mirror.
See what I mean? Perks is perks.
