Unsolicited Surprises
Ah, surprises. Once upon a time, they meant birthday parties and spontaneous flowers. Now? They’re mostly the kind that pop up in your bathroom mirror, your inbox, or your medical charts. Here’s a list of the little delights midlife has tossed into my lap—unsolicited, un-returnable, and often unwanted…
1. Eyebrow Hairs with Main Character Energy
No warning. No slow build. Just BAM—one morning, there it is: a single eyebrow hair that’s somehow grown longer than your patience. Not subtly, either. This sucker is arched for drama, sticking out sideways like it’s trying to get picked up by satellite.
It didn’t exist yesterday. And now it’s got enough presence to demand its own zip code. One end curls. The other points toward the heavens. Honestly? You start to wonder if it’s some kind of aging antenna—tuned into a special frequency for forgotten birthdays and weather-related knee pain.
You pluck it. You trim it. You even try to smooth it down with eyebrow gel (which, let’s be real, is just fancy glue for faces). But it always returns—longer, bolder, and more determined to ruin family photos.
2. That “Free” Trial You Forgot to Cancel
It all started with good intentions. “Try it free for 7 days!” they said. “You can cancel anytime!” they promised. And you believed them—like the sweet, naive fool you were.
Fast-forward two months, and you’re now paying $14.99 a month for something you used exactly once… to stream one episode of a show you didn’t even like. Worse? You’ve accidentally become a platinum member of a meditation app that sends you push notifications like, “Breathe in. Breathe out. Let go of your money.”
Bonus points if your credit card statement includes charges for things you don’t even remember signing up for—like Goat Yoga for the Soul, which you vaguely recall clicking during a 3 a.m. doom scroll. (You were curious. It was a weird night. Don’t judge.)
3. Bending Over Now Includes Sound Effects
Remember when you could drop something on the floor and just… pick it up? Effortlessly? Like it was no big deal and your knees weren’t filing complaints with HR?
Yeah. That version of me is gone.
These days, every attempt to retrieve a sock, a pen, or some mystery crumb from under the table comes with a full audio track. There’s a pop in one knee, a crack in my back, and a groan that sounds like someone’s slowly deflating a whoopee cushion.
I’m not sure if it’s my joints, the floorboards, or just my pride making all that noise—but it definitely wasn’t happening when I was twenty.
And before I even try to bend down? I now need a mental game plan. A deep breath. A visual scan for stable furniture. Then I position myself near a wall—just in case I need leverage or emotional support.
4. Surprise! You Can’t Eat That Anymore
Once upon a time, I could devour a plate of nachos, chase it with a milkshake, and fall asleep on the couch like a carefree human trash panda. No consequences. No regrets.
Now? My body treats spicy food, dairy, or literally anything seasoned with joy as a personal attack.
Even worse? Reflux isn’t just food-triggered anymore. Now, simply bending over to tie my shoe can apparently launch acid into my throat like it’s trying to reenact Old Faithful. I used to worry about my pants not fitting—now I worry about my esophagus lighting on fire because I dared to pick up a sock.
The list of “off-limits” foods keeps growing. Garlic? Nope. Chocolate? Betrayal in dessert form. Anything fried, carbonated, or remotely exciting? May as well come with a warning label and a fire extinguisher. Meanwhile, I’m supposed to get excited about plain oatmeal and herbal tea. Yum.
Aging isn’t just about crow’s feet and creaky knees. It’s also about turning into someone who reads ingredient labels and says things like, “Ooh, that might trigger my heartburn.” Sexy, right?
5. Being the Adult in the Room
There comes a moment—usually while signing something official-looking or explaining insurance deductibles to someone younger—when it hits you: Wait a second… am I the adult here?
Who let this happen?
I still Google how long to cook pork chops every single time. I forget where I parked anytime I leave the house. I own multiple reusable water bottles and somehow never remember to bring one. But sure, yes—let’s put me in charge of guiding the next generation, managing a household, building a retirement plan, and remembering to pay the bills on time.
The wild part? People now look to me for advice. Actual humans—with jobs and driver’s licenses—ask me questions like I have answers. I do not. I have Google, a half-charged phone, and a suspiciously high level of caffeine dependence.
Even worse, the “real” adults I used to turn to? They’re retired and say things like, “Well, that’s your decision now.” Oh no. I was promised an adultier adult would always be available. I was lied to.
Being the adult in the room is less about having it all figured out and more about pretending you do while internally screaming and hoping no one notices you’re wearing mismatched socks. Again.
So yeah—midlife surprises aren’t the glittery kind that come with cake and confetti. They’re the “Why does my ankle click when I yawn?” kind. The “How did I just get heartburn from water?” kind. The kind that sneak up on you like chin hairs and expired warranties. But hey, if life insists on throwing me curveballs, at least I’ve got reading glasses to spot them—and a snarky sense of humor to hit them out of the park. Probably while groaning, gripping a wall for support, and muttering something about fiber. Cheers to being surprised… and somehow still standing. Mostly.
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