Going comfortably gray and interviewing at 46

Initially as an austerity measure I stopped coloring my hair. Plus the reality of all those chemicals grew nightmarish. Why was I paying big buck for organic produce when I was smearing god knows what toxins on my head!?

Not that I am saying no one should. I loved my hot red head hair-do for years and faithfully dumped hundreds of dollars on it every 6 weeks or so. But those red hot days are far behind and for me it just seemed "been there, done that".

So I quit cold turkey, ignored the ghastly roots for a good year then got a happening short hair cut and decided I liked the gray. Right now it is, how they say, salt & pepper and sometimes it shimmers like threads of silver and I think, "Not bad. Gray hair doesn't have to equal geezer."

But as I go out into the job market after 10 years, I briefly wondered if I should try and do a bit of "youth-ercising". Does that mean covering up the gray?

I just don't want to go there again. I did buy new interview duds and even briefly toyed with the idea of a little makeup (gasp) but the hair-do is staying gray. I have decided it is a badge of honor and proof of all those lessons learned.

At 46, I feel I am squeaking right in there before full blown age discrimination sets in (or perhaps I show my naivety).

I tentatively begin the "informational interview" circuit and generally people are really amazingly generous with their time and contacts. All you have to do is ask nicely and perhaps buy them a coffee. I humbly try to impress, thank them profusely as I optimistically think about the seeds sown.

I scour job listings, brush up and re-write my resume, try and bang out a stand out cover letter and start sending them out.

Much to my surprise! I got a bite!

Thankfully I manage to not be as nervous at the interview as I have been in the past. Maybe it is the acquired life skills or just being able to read people better or the fact that I have nudged up against much bigger issues over the years but somehow it puts an 1/2 hour sit and chit into a more appropriate perspective.

As I look across the conference table at what would be my new supervisor, I see a sweet young gal a good 15+ years my junior. She looks at me with warmth and interest, not yet "chewed up and spit out", not having acquired that crusty veneer of cynicism.

I really like that about youth and I realize that I would like to work with this girl. So I did my darndest to "connect" and ended up getting called back for a 2nd interview which was more relaxed and friendly and informal.

It sort of feels right but I don't want to jinx it and only wait to see if I get the final nod.

Mid-life crisis? Probably.

I feel there is a very large omnipresent someone with a giant foam hammer smacking me on the head repeatedly just trying to get my attention.

Smack, bang! "Hey, what's that?" I notice something but then the phone rings and then I notice the laundry needs folding and I guess I should run to the bank, gas station and the grocery story and figure out what to feed the family for dinner because the kids will be home any minute and pretty soon the attention that the large someone had won is lost...yet again.

This has been happening all day, every day for about...I don't know...15 years?!

But, NOW the big omnipresent person is dangling a flashing neon sign in front of my face so that my attention can stay on it for more than the traditional 5 seconds even if I am driving or e-mailing or blogging or washing little accidents out of little boys underwear.

It is flashing in bright, bold, RED letters saying, "FIND SOMETHING ELSE TO DO FOR A LIVING, YOU IDIOT!!!!"

The same message has been expressed for quite a while but it seems like the letters are getting bigger and there are more exclamation points being added each time I take notice.

It has gotten so overt to ignore and has driven me to peruse the Craigslist job section extensively and fantasize about going back to school to get my masters degree.

"Is this a mid-life crisis?" my mom asks, hitting the nail on the head.

Yes. Without a doubt. This is indeed a mid-life crisis and it is as full of questions with very few answers as I had heard about.

No, I am not going to go out and buy a sports car and have an affair. In fact I am not even tempted but I did loose 20 pounds and continue to wonder what the hell I am going to be when I grow up. Which is more than a little bit pathetic for a 45 year old mom, dontcha think?

Enough with the self-loathing but I guess the universe has been trying to tell me something for quite a while. Who am I not to listen to the universe? It is not polite to ignore the universe and I think I am suffering from some very uncomfortable angst because I have been trying to.

So, blog friends, things are about to change. Perhaps drastically. How do I feel? Scared shitless!

I remember when I was working at an advertising agency doing broadcast production and my boss, the producer, sat at her desk spacing out at her view. She said, "There has to be an easier way to make a living." And, then she sighed. A big one. She was about my age then, mid 40's, and she had quit within the year.

Of course, they never hired another producer and had me do all her work and my own without giving me any more money because if there is anything that the Ad industry is good for it is exploitation. But that is a completely different blog post.

I guess my point is that it is never too late to make a change. Old dogs can learn new tricks. Calm can arise from chaos and the end of the story doesn't have to be obvious from the middle of the book.

Listen to the universe! Dammit! And, stop being such a weenie!

That is all...for now.

Vanity rules or confessions of a big fat loser

Middle age; perhaps the bane of our extended life span or maybe I should say the expanding waist band.

We all know it sneaks up on us. A pound here and a pound there. Slower metabolism is the culprit. The habit of finishing your kid's food because you don't want to waste it! Treating ourselves because, dammit, we deserve it. You know, just getting soft.

Goodies, lunches out, several delicious fortified beverages on occasion because well...we do indeed deserve it. It is pretty easy to just wear comfy-er pants, maybe just bump it up to achieve a roomy-er fit. Over the years though, it sure does catch up and you find you are going slower and slower because of it.

Did I deserve the extra 20 that was sitting uncomfortably around my middle? Well, I myself put it there over time so, yes, I did. But in all honesty it was taking a serious toll. Vanity? You Betcha! Health? Yikes! Sluggishness compounded by lack of tone compounded by, "OMG! I am 45! If I don't do something now, I may never be able to pull it together!"

Everywhere you turn there is inspiration AKA exasperation.

Take a look at Michelle Obama. No waif of a woman but healthy, strong and firm. I would pay big bucks to have toned arms like her. As she talks about childhood obesity and bringing important focus to this grave epidemic, us adults just get fat and fatter. Why would our kids stay fit and watch their weight when as they see their parents chomp on chips and buttered popcorn in front of the TV every night?

Well, all this guilt and the sharp unforgiving corners of brutal reality started me thinking. I guess just taking walks with my beloved GGFs was not enough. Obviously. So when a pal started hitting the gym in the morning instead of walking, I was intrigued.

Ok, honestly, I was annoyed. But she begged me to join her just to try it out. Nothing stressful. Layered in forgivingly stretchy and hiding clothes, I tentatively dipped my toe into a work out routine, 3 days a week.

My friend encouraged me to start out slow. Maybe warm up with a little treadmill, perhaps jump on the Elliptical machine to burn some fat, she enthused. There is a full weight room downstairs, might as well work my arms and do some crunches. If there is time, maybe take a dip in the pool, hot tub, sauna! Shower up and off to the normal gyrations of the day.

Wow. Hey! It wasn't so bad. In fact, it felt sort of wonderful to feel that trickle of sweat run down my back. Delicious, in fact. Even better than that bag of chips!

It didn't take long to feel completely different. Notice I say, "Feel" vs. "Look". I immediately felt kind of empty and purged and deliciously tired...in a good way.

I learned to stoke up my i-pod with pop tunes that my tween help me pick out. And, when I crank up the Lady Gaga tunes, close my eyes and sweat, I am the happiest camper on the block. This is my mommy time and I defend and protect it aggressively!

So, the lbs. were trickling away but DAMMIT! I started wanting some big impact. I started to want to feel transformed. So, I started taking a good hard look at my intake. Portion control and those -o-so-delicious-fortified beverages that I love so much.

Would I be willing to forgo micro brews for less flab? Well, yes. So I cut back then I just plain old quit. Cold turkey.

I can hear the collective sharp intake of breath from all those who know me and, perhaps, from those who don't. Quitting drinking was the big one for me. I began by not drinking on weeknights and for the first couple of weeks it was hard. 5:00 hit and my hand just felt empty without a brewski. So, I said to myself, "Only weekends." And, then, later, only if I wanted to.

I know, I know, hard to believe because I love to drink. I like the taste and the kooky buzz but let's admit it folks, a lot of time drinking can be self medication. And, I just decided that the medicine wasn't worth my spare tire.

So, I toss off one habit and took up another. A healthier habit. One that is literally putting years on my life. The amazing thing about habits is that it gets easier, you slip into auto pilot mode and you miss it if you stop.

To make a short story longer; I have lost 20 lbs. I went from a roomy size 14 to a satisfyingly snug size 8. I sleep like a brick. I don't feel like a lumbering lummux anymore. I am a good role model for my family who is coming along in my footsteps.

Do I work out everyday? Pretty much. On weekends? Uh...yes. I am sort of embarrassed to say it but "Hell yes, it is really mellow at the gym on weekends!" I guess I am obsessed.

So all in all, I feel like a new person, transformed, energized like I have my mo-jo back. How long did it take. Honestly, only about 3 months which doesn't seem like a very long time to transform your life.

Will I get bored and go back to my slovenly way? I am not sure. I hope not. The habit is ingrained now and I have successfully incorporated it into my schedule. I miss it if I skip a day. And, would certainly miss my new self.