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When Did I Lose My Groove?

I used to be hot.  I could walk into a room and the music stopped, heads snapped around to get a better view, and women knew they had been outmatched.
Yes, I used to be sizzling.  Even when the pounds started pounding and the years started whizzing by, I still had my groove.
I was a Ten before the world even had the decimal system.  (Okay, that might be a slight exaggeration, but you get the picture.)
Then all of a sudden, I lost my groove.
Instead of “Hey, Baby,” winks, and ogles, I started getting a lot of “Yes, Ma’am,” frowns, and respectful regards. Instead of men blocking my path to bug me about my phone number, men rush to get the door for me because I remind them of their grandmothers.
I went from Groovy to Grandma in a matter of years.
I blame this durn gray hair.  I should never have stopped dying it.  I was going to “make a statement.”  I was going to “age gracefully.”  I was going to “accept the inevitable” with a smile.
Well, pooh.
I want my groove back.  I want someone other than my dear husband and loving children to think I am beautiful.  I want someone other than my grandkids to see me at a distance and skip for joy that I exist.
Sure, sure.  I still get an occasional leer.  Some old gent will notice me at the doctor’s office, but I used to get that kind of look for the sway of my hips and not because I saunter in without a cane or a walker.
I want my groove back and while I am wishing for the impossible, I would like to lose twenty lbs off my weight and ten inches off my waist. 


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