Who Am I?

The calendar diesn't lie, even though my brain refuses to acknowledge the truth.

Ever look in the mirror and say, "who the hell is that?" Every day, my friend, every day.

In my delusional mind, I still have wrinkle-free skin, flat abs and perky, sexy breasts. I can eat anything I like without worrying about losing my size 4 figure. I can party all night and still function flawlessly in the morning. I have nearly limitless energy.

Oh, stop it!!! That real person in the mirror, wrinkled face, thinning hair and baggy eyes, goes along with a thickened waist, afternoon naps and not just shortened parties, but few parties at all.

This is 71. Seventy was bad enough, but tomorrow the calendar flips again and another year marks new surprises for the fictional young me.

But hey, on the upside, and it is a huge upside, my health is still good, I have wonderful friends (though I have lost more than I ever imagined) and a loving family (also missing crucial members like my dear Mom, Dad and step-father), so I ask myself:

What's a few wrinkles and 71 candles?