My Shelf

My Shelf

Moving quickly into my 40's more and more things are going the way that you have seen and heard them do in others yet somehow you think they won't hit you so quick and hard like a truck coming round a bend too quickly. There is nothing you can do to stop this train wreck. Well the truck hit me in the same way that you have seen it take down countless women before.


So you react by diligently beginning to eat right, try to exercise, try to sleep, moisturize. You have to use eyebrow pencil even when just running out for milk. You are starting to feel a little desperate and pathetic. No not age! Not lines! These were supposed to happen after I am done raising my kids so I can have a life again for a short while. Than I will give in. I solemnly promise to go south hard and fast one year after my youngest turns 18. But life laughs at you and hands you back a note stating, no deal.

So you ache and feel fatigued have new descriptions of exaustion that in reality you just can't describe. Of course these lapses in vocabulary are also new to you and are yet a new concern of your slipping down that aged path. You realize more and more that no man is enjoy the view when you bend over to fill the paper tray in the copier. He is wishing you would move as he needs to get by.

With all of these let downs I should have been better prepared for my visit to the accupuncture office. It's my first visit and I'm nervous and desperate for relief from various ailments. I am laying on a massage table in a questionably heated chinatown accupuncture office recommended by a friend.. A kind and mild mannered asian man has finished asking me questions about my migraines and fatigue. I'm now waiting for my treatment, front side face down, back side face up All that is between me and him is an examination gown. I feel him place all of the sealed needles and some type of adhesives for my feet on my butt. His hands move so softly I can not even feel the needles. I begin to smell menthol and I'm sleepy. But all that I can think is, he is using my behind as a staging ground for his work. I should be nervous about these needles as I've never been a fan. I should nervously be fearful of that prick but there is a ticker tape running across the inside of my eyelids repeating the same public service annoucement over and over... "My ass is a shelf" "My Ass is a Shelf?" My Ass is a Shelf!" It's not being appreciated as a shelf in a J.Lo or Beyonce kind of way. It is a utility shelf. Something you buy at Ikea with a odd name that you will never put up. Not my butt? Oh My God! My Butt. My ass is a piece of furniture.

I came out of my first accupuncture feeling tingly with treatment and relieved as my fatigue retreated. The that had been held prisoner in my body for so long was fleeing by body like it was a ship set on fire rudderless set to drift. I should be dancing and singing my way back to Brooklyn but something about my female appeal is in question. What the hey? Yeah I've had two kids and I've spread a bit. I can still squeeeeeeze into a size 6, sort of. I am not in model shape but I'm not wearing a wide load sign either. Mind you don't confuse my message. I'm not saying the accupuncturist should find me attractive but my ass is a designated on deck area.

After my treatment my skin was fine and my being was great but my ego could not recover. Oh my god I'm a middle aged Mom never have been stacked on top but have always been able to counter balance with a little junk in the trunk. So I"m feeling like every doll in the stores in 1959 after Barbie was introduced. Did I mention my ass is a shelf?