I was going through my mountain of mail this afternoon. I don't like doing this because nothing good is ever found in this mountain. Today, I got insult added to my weekly injury. I got an invitation to join AARP, also known as the American Association of Retired Persons which accepts member 50 and older. I am not 50 or older. As a matter of fact, I still have a few years before I can blame my bad attitude on a mid-life crisis. Yet, I have been invited to join. They must have heard of my sparkling personality and just couldn't wait to get me.
After fuming for a while--a long,long while--I forced myself to think positively about what this could mean. Think of the discounts. In this economy, I need all the help I can get. Avis, retail, legal services, pharacies...The possibilities are endless.
Also, with proof of membership, I can demand respect. FINALLY! I will shake my fist in the air and yell, "Respect your elders!" and "Don't speak until you're spoken to!" This will be especially handy in some of my meetings. I look forward to this particular perk. I especially look forward to my Tuesday meetings.
I did a little research and discovered there is a Ms. Senior America competition. I bet I could enter as an AARP member. It's not like they mail out membership cards to just anybody. No, sir. It's a very exclusive group. Armed with my membership, I can compete and say I have maintained my youthful glow without exaggerating one bit. Not to brag or anything, but I think I might have a chance at winning. That would be a nice change of pace for me.
Finally, for once I will be a part of a much larger, growing group. I will be able to bond with my peers over our mutual experiences and past adventures. Talk about the crazy kids and their loud music. Lobby our government for a better benefits. It could work.
So now I'm a little less depressed. Until I remember the fact that someone thinks I'm a senior citizen. Then I want to cry.