I
just renewed my driver's license and I don’t think I’ve ever had
a more depressing experience.
First
of all, the lovely people at the State of New Mexico Motor Vehicle
Division insist on taking your picture. I asked if I could
keep my old picture and they said they didn't do that anymore. Then
they give you your old license back. I tried to make them keep the
old one, but they wouldn't do it. Then they give you your new license
so you can compare the two, which is where the depression comes in.
Curse
you, Motor Vehicle Division! As if waiting in line for three hours
wasn’t bad enough! As an additional service, here’s a
picture of you when you were young and skinny, side by side with one
of you four years later. Compare and enjoy! It's kind of like those
“The Effects of Meth” things, only mine could be titled, “The
effects of LIFE.”
I
don’t like to think of myself as vain, but one of the worst things
was my documented weight gain. For one, it has my weight printed on
there, before and after, and that math is depressing. And then there
are the pictures. In 2009 I was trim and svelte, but by 2013
it somehow all turns to biscuit dough. Plus, there are the visible
signs of aging.
And
it's not just weight gain and aging, it's also my eyes. In the 2009
license, my eyes sparkled with hope and promise, and in the 2013 one,
my eyes are just... dead.
I
know some of what caused my rapid physical and mental deterioration:
In the time between licenses I graduated and started working for a
living. Also, we had a baby and our bills quadrupled. I’m not
knocking kids. I love mine. If the driver’s license could show my
heart, you would see that it has grown three sizes. But man, having a
kid takes a toll on you physically. The sleep loss alone is killer,
not to mention all the other demands and stress. Sometimes it feels
like my son is getting big and strong because he’s feeding off of
my wife and I.
But
enough pity-partying! I need to embrace the aging. One of the
good things is: with age comes wisdom and freedom. Freedom from
caring what other people think, and freedom to speak your mind.
You’ve seen old people, they can’t stop speaking their
minds. I know that one day I will be a cranky old senior citizen
complaining about everything, and that thought makes me smile.
“Pull
up your pants!” “Get a job!” “Get a haircut!” “Where’s
my ointment?”
Just
practicing.
Has
anyone else had this same harrowing experience? Can you give me any
tips on aging gracefully? As you can see, I need them.
