If I could count the number of times I begin a story and my husband first gets a look of concern, which then changes to in·cre·du·li·ty, then to a smirk. "What?" I say in the middle of my story. He replies, looking at me strangely..."Just wondering what I am supposed to say when you start telling me a story for the second or third time. Am I supposed to pretend you didn't tell me this already and just nod along?" Crap, no of course not! How can I not remember telling it to him before (maybe even twice)? What the heck has happened to my normally organized and well oiled brain. Maybe I need to try some of those fish oil pills... wait...are they for memory improvement, or for something else my almost 50 year old body is lacking? Hey do those pills make your breath smell like fish? Ick.
I'll just quit beating around the bush then. Getting old, stinks. I want "me" back. And losing my filter...well this just might be part of growing up.