Fifty

Woah.

I'm fifty. Half a century. Well past the mid-point of any average life, and given my obesity and diabetes, I can probably expect less than an average lifespan. If I'm going to do something worthwhile with my life, I'm running out of time.

I'm more than a little freaked out by it. I don't feel like a grownup, much less someone eligible for AARP membership. I got a membership application in yesterday's mail, and will probably join for the discounts. But it's weird to be eligible. My knees feel about 90, but the rest of me... well... no. I don't feel middle-aged, and yet there it is on my driver's license. 50. Sheesh.

Not that I think my life has been a waste. I've made a lot of friends, been a good friend a time or two, and done a thing or two that I'm proud of, like CARP and Living Force (not that I can bear what LF is becoming under new management). But... there's nothing that I feel I can point at and say "there - that's my contribution to the world". Nothing that has lasting value, nothing that I would be proud to have in my obituary. I'm not a success in my field - I am not even sure what my "field" is. I'm not married, I didn't raise a family... I just... am. If I disappeared tomorrow, people would miss me but there wouldn't be much of an impact.

I'd better get crackin'; time's a'wastin'.