And fat, too

Collected my mail at the Post Office the other day, and on the way out bumped into a woman I’ve known for decades. We’ve been frequent allies in politics, and from my mid-20s to my late-50s she worked hard for me during various campaigns. I’ve had the chance to return the favor a time or two. Socially, we’ve attended dozens of parties and picnics together. We’re not bosom buddies, but we’re friends. So I gave her a smiling greeting at the PO door, and asked how she was doing. She looked at me, said “I think I recognize you,” and stared quizzically. I introduced myself—a bizarre feeling in the circumstances. She started back, gave me a shocked look, and said, “Oh, my God, you look so old.”

Exactly my reaction every morning in the mirror.