I'll turn 26 in two days. I'm not going to lie and say that "age is just a number," though I do believe that in the case of my relationship with the man (who is eleven years my senior). Age is more than a number when you make the jump from early twenties to mid twenties and are knocking on the door of late twenties. Ah, yes, you think I'll be having a hard time of it when the thirties, forties, and fifties hit me, but I am still young enough to get away with a lack of foresight so pishaw on you.
As for an update on the hips...today I go to my first PT session this morning. Oh yippee. I'm not enthused, but am hoping that I will be able to get some sort of motivation from this first meeting. If nothing else, I hope that there is a positive spin (even if it is just getting more toned and has nothing to do with the pain subsiding, or if the physical trainer is hot - I am trying to lower the cynicism for the time being).
The unfortunate part of it, referring back to the age stuff, is that I woke up feeling like an octogenarian who had been mugged in an alley the night before. The weather changes are wreaking much havoc on the musculoskeletal system and I'm stiff and sore and ornery to boot. Oh, please let the physical trainer be good looking enough to help me to disarm the expletives that are bound to try to fly out of my mouth.
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