I did quite well for the first week of my new regime. I walked on four days out of the seven. My plans to stride out this morning were dashed by torrential rain. Drat’s, I really wanted to hit the trails! The big problem really is food and the continual snacking at work. Everywhere I turn someone if offering food. I just have to learn to say NO.
Reading the usual argie bargie from the election candidates in my weekend paper this morning, and might it be said, not a clear winner amongst them, I turned the page and started reading a book review that had the tears streaming down my face. This is an excerpt from a book of essays written by the Canadian actress Mary Walsh. Called, “No longer just acting”.
Here I am, a brassy bit of aging crumpet on the slippery slope side of fifty five and picking up speed, but because even as a young actress I played an endless series of big, loud, opinionated old bags, it didn’t really hit me that I had now become one. I thought that I was just still acting. But in a moment of stunning and, frankly, crushing clarity earlier this year, it struck me. I had reached the third stage of womanhood. You know the three stages: young, middle-aged and oh-my-God, Mary, you’re looking good.
The excerpt went on in that vein until I hurt laughing. That just may be the secret to accepting getting older; Keep on laughing. My writing this week has been mainly research as I search for agents that I hope are suitable. My list gets longer. This week I am starting on a synopsis of Body Perfect. I find synopsis really daunting but I will confer with my partner and discuss the fine points before attempting it.
Have a good week,
Slainte,
Pam
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