By Wingnut
I”m confused by gravity.
Not the Newtonion physics of it; I get “what goes up must come down” and the whole inertia thing. I’ve seen Dancing with the Stars, I understand bodies in motion. And not Einstein’s relativity gig. E=mc2 is heavy stuff but the idea of large bodies bending space makes sense to me. I’ve felt the whooosh of a semi go past on the highway. Gravity.
No, what I mean is; what the hell’s going on with my face?
Yes, I’m aware that I am firmly ensconsed in middle age. Heck, in six short years I’ll qualify for the senior disount! Can’t wait, by the way. My cheapness far outstrips my vanity.
I really don’t have a huge complaint with my face. I use sunscreen, I avoid UV rays when ever possible, I moisturize. I even sleep on my back, as beauty experts advise; sleeping on one’s face causes one’s skin to fall in unbecoming folds.
So why is the Crypt Keeper peering back at me from the bathroom mirror every morning?
Easy answer; because I’m old.
But it doesn’t last. By the time I’ve had my fill of the magic elixer known as coffee, the CK is gone. I look ten years older first thing in the morning than I do for the rest of the day, which doesn’t make sense, seeing as I’m actually younger first thing in the morning than I ever will be again.
Hence my confusion.
Maybe it’s not gravity that confuses me. Maybe it’s the whole time/space continuum. Maybe I’m actually older first thing in the morning than I ever will be again. Like Merlin, maybe I’m aging backwards, but only over the course of each day.
Maybe I just need more coffee.
It’s like if Benjamin Buttons starred in Groundhog Day.
Or if Red Buttons starred in Independence Day!