Life has a way of sneaking up on us all. Last week I felt the call to volunteer my many unemployable skills at a local non-profit organization, the Bainbridge Island Senior Center. Feeling quite proud to share time and talent with our local seniors, I called to chat with the coordinator. Mind you, it hasn’t been all that long ago that I was slogging away in the regular working world, guzzling caffeine and attending meetings designed to numb minds to the reality of how boring our jobs really were. So volunteering seemed like a fab idea and how exciting to be doing something valuable for our senior community! Halfway through the conversation with the coordinator she asked a simple question, ‘how old are you, dear?’ I answered 55. ‘Oh how wonderful!’ she exclaimed. ‘You are eligible to join the Senior Center as well as to volunteer.’ Uh oh, a flash of panic dashed through my mushy brain. Me, a senior?! Ha! Not possible! Why just yesterday I was working, etc., etc. Wait a minute – was that yesterday? Or months, no years ago? Uh oh, what the hell happened between 45 and 55? Was I in a coma or did those years freaking fly by? It must be the latter because as I tried to speak brilliantly to the lady on the other line of the phone, I quickly flipped the calendar and sure enough, it is 2011 and I am 55 years old. ‘Great, I’ll meet you at noon on Monday,’ I choked out before hanging up the phone. Geeze, that was so disturbing that I need a nap and might as well throw in a Tylenol and some tapioca along with that. Where is that heated blanket throw and the back support pillow for my sciatica? Wait, better hit the bathroom first and – geeze, what was I running off to do now? Can’t remember.
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