I'm into the period that I'm calling my 60/60 campaign -- 60 days until I'm 60 years old. The countdown today is at 58 days. That means my 60th birthday is bearing down on me. It's even closer if you consider that at this age, 58 days seems like not much more than a long weekend.
I mentioned that I was soon turning 60 to a friend yesterday and she was stunned. "You're not that old!" Well, yes, I am that old. She, of course, tried to cover her tracks, but the point was made that 60 is considered "old" by just about anyone who hasn't reached their 60s. And that's OK because I'm comfortable with where I am.
It's funny how 60 is different than the other milestones. Maybe it's because you're almost Social Security age, and closer to the end than the beginning. But aren't we so much wiser and more patience?
Ah, yes, patience. I wish I had the patience of today when I was in my 30s. But sometimes I revert back to my lack of patience -- like the other day when I was trying to get some life insurance information and was put on hold twice for 10 minutes each. When the representative came back on the second time, she accidentally disconnected me. I wasn't very patient. In fact, I was very angry.
But who did it hurt as I huffed around trying to call somebody back at the insurance company to yell at? My entire afternoon was messed up because I let that get to me.
Fortunately, I don't let that happen much anymore. Good thing. That tantrum took 7 days off my life.
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The first 10 minutes on the phone would have really ticked me off, but if they left me on hold again for 10 minutes I'd befriend one of those gun-toting health care protesters and borrow their piece.
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