Life Can Be Hilarious!

   If you read my last post, you know that I have been grappling with a nasty stomach virus that simply will not let go of me. So today, after my third attempt to make it to the car, I finally succeeded in my quest to make it to the corner drugstore, which in my case, is a Walgreen's. While waiting for some prescriptions and to talk with a pharmacist about my recurring little problem that might require Depends, I talked with a very nicely dressed younger woman.
   As we did the woman-to-woman chit-chat thing, I discovered that her college alma mater was the same as two of my sons' (insert a War Eagle yell here) and our chit-chat world automatically expanded. I asked her what year she graduated, and she very apologetically told me that she was 44 years old and had finished college in the 1980's.  I proceeded to tell her that I was indeed much older than she and when I gave her my age as well as the age of my oldest child (32), she gasped and uttered the words, "I need to get the name of your doctor," I laughed hysterically. She said it again. I laughed again. "I need to get the name of your doctor." Can you believe it?!!! Me, of all people.
   And then I told her that I had been sick for three days, during which time I did not wash my face or use moisturizer one single time. I also know that God must have a very funny sense of humor. On my way to Walgreen's I was thinking how awful I looked. Bags under my eyes. Hooded crepey drapey flesh hanging over my eyes. Uneven, blotchy complexion accompanied by pores on my nose that look like the Grand Canyon to me...I could go on, but you must be getting the picture. Trust me when I say that I did not look good. But for some reason, this woman seemed to think I looked young and vibrant (I think she even used those words). I almost wet my pants every single time I think about it. So, all you girl friends out there, get ready, cause just in case you haven't noticed, I am looking good these days!
   Oh, and if you were wondering, my beauty (ha ha) routine involves a terry washcloth, whatever soap is in the shower (usually Dove), whatever cream I have stashed in my nightstand -- either something Aveda my momma has given me or L'Oreal from Walgreen's if I bought it myself,

 

finished off with a dash of Mentholatum on my lips 'cause I am addicted to the smell and can't go to sleep without it. My husband hates it all, so sometimes I just wash my face and go to bed and then sometimes I just go to bed. Mascara and leftover make-up and all. Do you get the drift that there is no beauty routine of any substance for me and absolutely no plans for any surgery, injections, laser treatments, etc.?
     However,  if I win the lottery, I might change my mind. Wait, I don't play the lottery. So that's not gonna happen either. Oh well...my motto is, "Come grow old with me, the best is yet to be."