Not my Tiara

I worked in one of The Big Corporation’s satellite offices on Wednesday.  The cubicle I used belongs to someone who just had a big birthday; her tiara haunted me all day.

I’m not close to 60, but it still made me nervous.

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3 Responses to Not my Tiara

  1. jeanne says:

    Time slips by so quickly. It seems like yesterday that I was in labor. Now my son’s approaching 18, which means I’m getting younger, too.
    But I do wonder that if we have fully lived – done all the things we’ve dreamed to do – if age would bother us so much.
    Maybe a bucket list is in order. And/or slowing life down to really appreciate loved ones. Adding more “play” time…
    Or maybe locking Father Time in a closet 😉

  2. Loosehead Prop says:

    Deal with the target that’s closest to you. 60 is too far even for me to worry about.

    Only North Americans obsess and hide their ages (and let’s be honest, it’s women who obsess about it, although it affects men in a different way). In Italy, women expect to be complimented on their age and proudly state, “I am 62.” No one else in Europe, Africa, Arabia or Asia worries about their age.

  3. Loosehead Prop says:

    On the other hand, just why was her cubicle vacant? Maybe you really were haunted!

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