Today’s my 79th birthday. Next year, if I’m counting correctly, I’ll be 80. Officially, that is.
To get myself psyched up for that momentous birthday, I decided to figure out some way to mark each day preceding it. At first, I planned to be a nice Little Old Lady and crochet a bedspread – one motif per day. Really. But instead, grandson Bryce insisted on setting up this blog and suggesting – demanding – that I write an entry in it each day. He was adamant. Then, he promptly left town to head for college. Thanksalot, Bryce.
As I’m sitting here trying to figure what in the world I can possibly write about, Bryce’s ulterior motive dawned on me. HE IS TRYING TO WORM ALL MY SECRETS OUT OF ME. That’s what a blog is. It’s kinda like “Dear Diary”.
To confuse him, I decided that I would go along with his nefarious scheme, but with the following ground rules: At the very least, I won’t expose all my secrets in one fell swoop. Like the vitamin – it won’t be more than One-a-Day. I will cautiously share each day’s secret in the hope that you – the reader – will learn from it, but you must not reveal it to others. Promise!
So here’s today’s secret. I mentioned earlier that next September, I’m going to be 80 years old. Okay. I didn’t intentionally lie about my age, but secretly, next year I believe I’m going to be 90 years old – not 80.
All other terrestrials calculate their age based on the calendar. Not me though. I think it only counts when we’re conscious. I don’t believe we should count the time we squander when we’re asleep, get it? Does that seem fair?
Do the math. If you live to be 80 years old in regular calendar time, you will have been alive for 8,760 hours per year – or a total of 700,800 hours. People who sleep 8 hours a day, will be snoozing away 233,600 hours of that time. But those of us who only sleep up to 5 hours per day (including TV dozing-off time and miscellaneous senior moments) will only fritter away 146,000 hours — a savings of 87,600 hours. That totes up to TEN YEARS FOR FREE. Call me unreasonable but I know a bargain when I see one.
You might want to take my first secret to heart, especially if you’re a coffee-drinker. But don’t tell your mother I said so. Or your doctor. Remember your promise.
From Grandma Pat, the OCTO-woman.