Not as Young as I Use to Be

Just finished a good sized dresser yesterday and planned on John and I taking it to the booth after he got home from work last night...

We did do that, but not before I came to the big realization that I'm not as young or strong as I use to be!  I work on all this furniture in a storage room in our basement. That means it all has to get carried down there and then back up again!  

By the time we lugged that dresser out of the storage room, to the stairs, up the stairs, out the front door and loaded it into John's truck, I was beat!  Granted, this was after a day of working on several projects and making at least 20 trips up and down those stairs, but the realization that I couldn't do this stuff like I use to just seemed to hit me out of left field. 

Before this, 52 (my age) was just a number, but now I'm thinking "Is this what 52 means?"  Am I ....dare I say...old??  What happened to 50 being the new 40?

I may need the heating pad, but I'm not ready to start knitting in my rocking chair just yet! I'm going to pull up my big girl panties and go back to believing that I'm 42! :)