What Have You Stopped Doing in Your Old Age?

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Two commenters – Nikki of Nikki’s Place and jeh12345 of driftwoodinspiration – on the story about retiring to a Travelodge mentioned that, like me, they hate changing bed linen. Nikki brought up the difficulty in getting duvet covers on and off. No kidding. I once zipped the cat into the duvet and couldn’t find him until bedtime. He didn’t complain all day.

Two or three years ago, I gave up the quilt/duvet hassle every week in favor of thin, cotton quilts. I had switched to the quilt/duvet routine about 35 years ago to avoid the need for a top sheet; I am not capable of sleeping under them without getting my legs so tangled that it wakes me when I can’t move in the night.

Thin cotton quilts solve both problems. I just add more in winter and they wash as easily as sheets.

Here are some other things I’ve given up in old age:

• High-heeled shoes, and oh, how I miss them – their beauty, their sexiness, the added height. But nowadays I can’t get from the bedroom to the door without crying out in pain. It is a good thing in life to not be in self-inflicted pain.
• Weighing myself. I counted every forkful that went in my mouth from puberty until about ten years ago. I was always hungry, but when the scale inched up, I ate even less. Now I eat when and what I want and I may be fat, but I’m easier to get along with.


• Coloring my hair. I suppose, due to my blog point of view, gray hair has become a political statement for me. But more important is the freedom from a chore that rivals bed changing on the tedium scale. Since my hair has no style – I just clip it back – I trim it myself allowing me to forego even a moment in a dreaded hair shop.


• Makeup. At about 15 minutes a day for 45 years or so, I spent nearly six months of my life applying makeup. No more. Well, except for the occasional fancy social engagement.


• Pantihose. For decades I inflicted this torture on myself. Now, if an outfit requires pantyhose, I don’t buy it.


• Finishing books I don’t like unless I’m obligated by a misguided promise. Whatever possessed me for so many years to think that once begun, a book – no matter how boring, badly-written or unenlightening – must be finished.


• Buying music – in any format. There are more than 10,000 mp3s (some singles; some albums) on my computer now and my music organizer/player informs me that to listen to them all would take 36 days, 21 hours, 18 minutes and 43 seconds. That’s enough to last the rest of my life.


• Following celebrity gossip. For the years I spent working at The Barbara Walters Specials and elsewhere, it was necessary to know who was who and what they were doing with whomever else who was a boldfaced name. Now I can’t tell the difference between Britney Spears (I had to look up the spelling) and Lindsay Lohan, and I don’t care.


• Hurrying. I spent nearly 50 years working on deadline, sometimes hourly deadlines all day, every day. I don’t do that anymore at least when they are imposed by someone else.

In addition to reducing the amount of stress and irritation in my life, many of these save time and others save a lot of money which is a good thing since I don’t have as much of it as I did when I was working.

I know, I know – there are plenty of Time Goes By readers who have never done any of these things (call me shallow; I won’t mind). But I am willing to bet there is other stuff you have forsaken as a bad idea or no longer necessary as you’ve gotten older. Let’s hear about them…

[At The Elder Storytelling Place today, there is an anonymous piece sent in by Randy Clark that should leave your leave your heart warmed. It is titled Whose Life Have You Touched Today?]