The Fine Art of of Not Caring


The Fine Art of of Not Caring

One of the nicest gifts that comes with aging is just not giving a fuck about a ton of things. An easy example, when I hear something new about how we’re destroying the planet, and yes I care, I turn the stress meter down just a tad when I hear the dates and firmly know I’ll be ashes in the wind. That doesn’t mean I stop taking care of the planet, I do my part but know I won’t be here. Since I made the best decision ever not to have children, well I just try to let it go just a bit and know all I can do is the best I can while I’m still here.

I remember a time in my life when I wouldn’t have left the building without looking top shelf, hair, makeup, clothes, shoes, and nails, now thanks to menopause and aging, well it just doesn’t matter so much. Seriously, all the hard work and focus on these things just can’t be a focus now. I still try to make myself presentable to myself but at the end of the day not wearing those sexy heels and minis anymore. Not happening so it’s one less thing to think about. And the savings, OMG, the amount of money we spend on this shit as women. That’s not to say I don’t miss looking in the mirror and seeing that person, but she’s gone so you have to let it go.

Granted this takes some getting used to, but once you get the hang of it, it’s amazing how you can stream through decisions you once had to spend a lot of time on. Lifetime left has a new meaning.

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