It's not easy being me, Vol. MCCXXXIV

Truly, I am blessed. Though I am 63, I don't look it. And most of the time, I don't feel it, either. This is despite the need for a whole host of products that I wasn't aquainted with just a few months ago. Like under-eye depuffer. It seems that I sleep on my side a lot, with my down pillow all scrunched up under my cheek, causing me to wake up with these little pouches under my eyes. I tried these little pod thingies, squeeze dab and massage. No soap. Next I tried to train myself to sleep on my back. Yeah, that'll happen. Now I am trying a new lotion, and it seems to be helping, though my basset hound look is still with me until at least noon every day. I just try to stay behind my shades a lot. Ginko biloba is on my list, because I want to keep those neural pathways firing. And I still take magnesium, to help me absorb my calcium. I buy huge bags of tooth pick thingies that help me floss behind those pesky molars in back. And soy, for hot flashes, and Estrin D, to perk up my flagging metabolism. Today, my back hurts. Today, I feel my age, it is aching bone deep. Pardon me while I snivel.