I have no idea how optimistic I’m supposed to be about March 2021, but I suppose I’ll try!

The big news in my state (Michigan, United States), is that vaccine appointments are now open for people ages 50 and older with “underlying conditions.” The not so optimistic part of me thinks that some folks not necessarily on the up and up might be feigning these “underlying conditions” so as to move up in line for the shots. Shame on them if they’re actually healthy (really – who over age 50 is in perfect health and has all of their parts in working order?) It doesn’t matter. Nobody likes a line cutter, do they?

Sigh…it’s one of only three times in my life I’ve REALLY wanted to be older. The first time was when I was waiting to get my driver’s license in February, 1988. And as if it were a slap in my impatient face, I couldn’t even get my license ON my birthday because of a snowstorm (oh the humanity). The things we thought were the absolute end of the world when we were teenagers, right? I mean get out – waiting another day or two to get a license and eventually get so many speeding tickets and moving violations that my insurance would get canceled? Looking back, maybe I should have waited a bit longer to get my license – and maybe my parents should have not allowed me to get it unless I passed algebra. But alas, that’s about enough about my teenage failures, isn’t it?

Next on my “I can’t wait to be older” list was turning 21. I celebrated that milestone at a now defunct chain restaurant (which was killed by Hepatitis A, among other things) called Chi-Chi’s, and I had a margarita. My friends forced me to endure the embarrassment of having the restaurant staff sing “happy birthday” to me and present me with a sombrero. Which I took home and my mom wore when she mowed the lawn out in the summer sun. What can I say? I come from a long line of people who favor function over fashion! She wore that thing as a sun hat until it fell apart.

So what’s number three on my “Oh I wish I was older” list? Getting vaccinated! I’m one year away from the current age cutoff for “underlying conditions.” I’m estimating I won’t be able to get my shots until April or May. And that’s…OK. I’ll still be careful and properly germophobic until then. Daily Lysol baths, wear five masks at once, buy a hazmat suit on layaway, buy my own island in Lake Huron so as to be spaced appropriately away from others (I wish)! But you know how it would go if you had your own house on your own island…you’d still end up running out of booze, coffee filters or toilet paper once you thought you were completely stocked up on everything, wouldn’t you?

So what else is going on with me? Not much…but I have scheduled a HAIR CUT! Yes, my first professional cut since a year ago! The back of my hair hasn’t been cut since my husband did it nine months ago, and the other parts haven’t been cut, or shall I say “hacked off by myself as though in a ’90s indie film riot girl rage” since August of 2020. I almost shudder to think what the person cutting my hair will say to me, maybe something along the lines of “Did you use the weed whacker to try to trim your hair or something?” I’ll probably have them go extra short. Who knows when I’ll go in for another cut right away?

My husband’s hair is usually at least shoulder length, and it hasn’t been cut since January, 2020. He is looking like a member of Iron Maiden in the 1980s, but he said he’ll sit tight waiting for a professional hair cut for now. But hasn’t ruled out allowing me to do it outdoors on a nice day. It’s his hair, it’s his life!