What’s my age again?

I’m getting old. I know I’m getting old because whenever I hear a ball being kicked outside my house I look out the window just waiting to yell at the kids to get off my lawn (they’re never actually on my lawn, but that doesn’t quell the urge). For the last 20 years or so I’ve been trying to come to grips with it and to age gracefully; I’m still trying. While it doesn’t depress me I can’t help but think about how much time I’m losing and not doing anything with it. Every second you waste is (as best we know) gone forever and I’ve frankly wasted more than average.

Exactly how old am I? My age can be summed up in 2 words: Circle Square. For those too young to know or too old to remember what the heck I’m talking about, just liken it to the Barney of today (is that still on the air?). This was one of the ways my generation learned sharing, caring and talking about our feelings. It was Canadian so probably not very popular to the other 50 states or the rest of the world, but in Jamaica it was probably the only thing that our lone television station could afford to syndicate. It wasn’t all bad, I mean I even got the song book with Super Hymnal Action. HIYAH!!!

At this stage I can’t help but think that I should be making some life changing affirmation about grabbing life by the horns and making the best of each day, but I’ll be honest: I’m in bed right now and will probably be taking a nap as soon as I finish typing this. I say nap because I will most certainly be wide awake again by 12 when the munchies kick in. A Carpe Diem moment this is not.