I turned 58 (I think) in January. I have never really paid much attention to how old I am and I have never had a birthday that bothered me.....30, 40, 50..... were all great. The only thing that bothers me is getting old. That might not make sense to you, but it does to me. Numbers don't matter to me, but the deterioration of my faculties does. When I was in my late 30's I was at a painting class and all of a sudden I couldn't see as well as I did the day before. I bought reading glasses from the department store and used them occasionally when I painted. Soon I needed them for reading. Then I had to go to the eye doctor and get the real thing but opted for contacts. They were great, but a few years later I wasn't seeing that well again and I had to get bifocal contacts. Currently I wear multi-focal lenses so I can see far, medium and close. I got a magnifying mirror for the bathroom so I could see to pluck the eyebrows but when I did, I noticed the wrinkles, sun spots, and enlarged pores that I hadn't noticed before....even an occasional stray hair growing where it is not supposed to grow. What's up with that? I finally got used to the mirror and am grateful to have another tool to help out my aging eyes when I really need a close inspection but that same mirror tells me that even though numbers don't matter, my bad eyes, my wrinkles and my pores are not getting any better. Botox, which has been a dirty word for me for a long time is starting to whisper in my ears. Go away whispers....you are nothing but botulism waiting to slowly poison everyone who has used it for 20 years. By the way, how do you like my photograph? It took a while to take a photo of a mirror with a picture of my favorite IKEA containers inside it.