The Thing About Nudity: Is . . .

Could I ever belong to a nudist community of any sort? After due deliberation: I think not but nudity when I am totally alone inside the boundaries of my home is (on all levels) liberating.  I don’t even mind the reflection in the mirror(s) as I pass by them. There I can shut my eyes! and pretend I still look like a beach babe, all tan and toned up for the summer and not a ‘everything dropped twenty inches’ sixty-five year old that I am. I digress: Once I was in hospital in a four bed room with an elderly woman who looked amazingly fit for her age. Her face and hair showed her age but her body was spectacular. She had been a dancer and still taught dance. Something to be said for dance of which I am a fan not a participant. End of digression: Back to being nude in the confines of my home (or in this case Steve’s home, which I keep reminding myself is not mine) and to being totally guiltless with my indulgence. This does two things for me. One: I can wash all the clothes on my back and have an empty hamper! Two: I can breathe. I can float around on air-feet lightly touching the hardwood floor and feel the coolness of the morning on all my skin. I can breathe. It is better than sex! Well, maybe not better than sex (if I remember correctly, that is) but pretty darn near.

Speaking of sex: May I be brave enough to say it here and only once: What is up with men over the age of sixty? I can’t figure this one out. Something as much fun as sex being pushed to the back burner seems to me to be a very insensitive and stupid thing for a man to do to a woman. What is up with that? I hear this from every married girlfriend I have and well, every single girlfriend as well and it seems to me that this ‘issue’ should not be an ‘issue’ at all with miracle pills for the having, if their men would only ask their friendly doctor. As my (nameless) friend put it “I’m not asking for a super stud just one who is willing on at the least a weekly basis.” I get her frustration. I am just wondering, that’s all.

Work is the pits. I have to leave for the doctor in a few minutes because I turned my foot the wrong way when getting ready for the gym this morning. Yes, it’s still broken but I do upper body work at the gym and some leg work (as long as pressure isn’t put on the side of my left foot, I’m fine) trying so hard to become a trimmer and thinner version of myself. I want this! I want to be healthy and fit, but I want that beach-babe body back too :) or at least as close as I can get to it. I will think about the elderly woman in the hospital bed across from me and remember our bodies do not need to get all full of sags and love handles if we work them properly. I’m working, I’m working! Now to the doctor to check out my foot.

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