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Headlines, billboards and commercials scream the same message lately –

 Plan to live to 105 years old

Wait, what?  I’m not sure I want to live to 105.  At 47, I feel pretty good but I’m not sure I feel good enough to hang on for another 58 years. I’m not even sure I want to hang on for another 58 years.

Last night I went to sleep at 11:15pm.  This is the unfitful sleep of a pretty fit 47 year old:

2:00am  – I wake up with an excruciating pain in my leg; I’m a double hip replacement waiting to happen if I live to 105.

3:30am – I wake up not sure what day it is; I’m looking at early onset alzheimers for the next 58 years.

4:55am – I wake again wondering how I’m going to pay this months unusually high credit card bill; I’m praying I have early onset alzheimers so I don’t have to speculate about how to fund a 40+ year retirement.

I’ve been sleeping in the same bed with my husband for over 20 years.  The noisy bodily functions emitted during an average night sleep are unspeakable.  Can you imagine what that will be like in 58 years?  I think Dick Van Dyke and Mary Tyler Moore knew what they were doing, sleeping in separate beds, content they would die peacefully in their sleep before they hit 75.

One-hundred and five.  It even takes a long time to type.  I don’t ever want to wear stretchy pants never mind a diaper.  I don’t want to be so old, I can’t remember my children’s names.  My entire family is under strict instructions to shoot me on sight the day I require a scooter to do the food shopping.  105 doesn’t hold any draw for me.

I know they say money doesn’t buy happiness but if I’m living until 105, the co-pays aren’t going to be cheap. I’m pretty much a glass half full kind of girl.  I’m always looking for a silver lining and I balk at those whose negative energy says something can’t be done.  But come on now, I have as much chance of saving for a 40 year retirement as I do of Ryan Gosling texting me to meet him for drinks later this evening to discuss how we are spending the next 58 years together.

On the other hand, nothing too earth shattering has happened to me over the past 47 years; maybe the best is yet to come.  Maybe my book will be published, my kids happy and healthy and my friends ringing me up for crazy antics at our 90th college reunion.

I’m not sure what Prudential has in mind for funding my lifestyle until the ripe old age of 105 but to hedge their planning, I’m heading out to buy some lottery tickets and maybe I’ll pick up a scooter just in case.

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