You know you are old when . . .

So my husband and I were having a spa day. You know, a romantic, amazing day, where we say: we should do this more often.

You know what that looks like: We‘ve done this two or three times in the last 15 years.

But no matter.

Now, you know you are old when you are in the ladies’ facilities and it seems like a good idea, while there is no one there, to take a delicious steam.

So I go into the steam room. There’s a light switch but I decide not to turn it on. I’m going to luxuriate in the shadowy darkness and just let all the poisons (and fat – right?) melt out of my body.

I’m going to be a lean, mean, fighting machine after this. I lay down on the towel on the little bench, naked . . . sort of letting it all “hang out”. (Dear God – how literally accurate that term is for me now.)

As I’m laying there I think: What if I have a stroke or a heart attack? I’m all alone. The light is off. Even if someone poked their head in, it might look like I was “resting”.

I could be laying there with a high blood pressure induced aneurism and NO ONE WOULD KNOW!

So this is what it is like to be 50. (All right, fuck me, 51.)

I left the steam room. But it’s okay. We’ll be back. In about 5 years. Maybe in the interim I should interview for a “Steam Buddy”.