Why time flies

To some, me included, it’s a compelling mystery as to where the time goes. Especially while standing at the intersection of 50+ and EmptyNest-hood.

I often asked myself: Is time moving faster, or am I moving slower? I really believe it’s a little of both. And I think I have finally figured it all out.

Here’s my theory:

When Cassidy and Julia were school age, there was so much activity and motion going on in our daily lives, that time crept along at a nice s-l-o-w pace.

January through March brought all kinds of episodic dramas — re-entry to school after the long winter’s nap that was CHRISTmas break, Oh, and the inevitable ugly influenza that would attack each winter, where even a half-ounce sip of water evoked copious amounts of vomit. And then March was always a kind of slow march into Spring, still bouts of cold weather and cloudiness overhead, but with the promise of Sprong on its way. Which meant Spring break and alll its tangential accoutrements; Do we go skiing, go to Newport/Disneyland, or do we stay home and go stir crazy?staypicking outhe the year was full of all kinds of benchmarkswe sort of jumped from one mini-event/super saga/episodic drama to the other.

Because like January


So that was then.

And this is now:


It’s the little things

There’s a little bench on a beautifully shaded street close to my office that often has a little “shrine” or homage displayed. Not big. Not flashy. Nothing blatant. For whom, I know not. Honoring what, I haven’t a clue. It may be a small bouquet of fresh-cut flowers, or a balloon, or a colorfully painted rock….


Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow             Fleetwood Mac was in town a couple of weeks ago. Did you go? Because Chuck and I did. And we had a wonderful evening. I mean, who wouldn’t love getting in touch with their inner-1976ish self while watching Stevie and Mick do their thing?   And so it was…


My Daughter Got ‘Manti Teo’d’

While watching Katie Couric’s interview of Manti Te’o last Thursday,  I got deja vu,  goosebumps, and extremely irritated.  And after it was over, I took ownership of my acute stupidity. When my daughter was a freshman in high school, she had a fun, intriguing, ‘first-love’ relationship with a guy (I think) who lived a privileged life …


I have FOMOphobia

As I was working out the other morning, perusing an article in I think it was an old Glamour magazine that was on the rack at the club, I learned that I have FOMOphobia. Yes, I have an affliction called Fear Of Missing Out. And I discovered that it doesn’t lie dormant, and it’s been festering for…


Outta Bounds

Fairly recently, unwittingly and unknowingly, I crossed the line.  I stepped way out of bounds. What I thought was cute and fun was, in fact, not cute and fun. At all. My intent was absolutely benign and pure and innocent. What I did was spontaneous and,  I thought, oh-so-clever. But what matters most is that she didn’t….


Puppy Love

We lost our beloved, sweet, 14 1/2-year-old, perfectly-shaded yellow Lab, Mia, on Saturday, December 14. She was our fifth family member, who just happened to have been born with copious amounts of “hair” and four legs. She had not one mean bone in her body. She cried with us after our 18-year-old Sonny cat died five years ago….


Just Breathe . . .

  (For my approximately eight other readers who didn’t see this in the November issue of Gold River Messenger, here ya go.) Halloween has come and gone, which means that Thanksgiving and Christmas and Hanukkah, et al., are on their way, which means we have to do our regular everyday stuff, on top of all the…


Sleepful in Sacramento

When we turned our clocks back one hour last Saturday night, besides wishing I could turn back time to, say, 1982, I was excited. Because it meant an extra hour of sweet, sweet slumber. I love sleep. I love to sleep. soft viagra I love to talk about sleep. And I’m really, really good at it. So…


Don’t Stop Thinking About Tomorrow

Fleetwood Mac was in Sac a few months ago!  Chuck and I could not and would not pass on seeing them. So we went. And we had a wonderful evening. I mean, who wouldn’t love communing with their inner-1976-ish self while watching Stevie and Mick do their thing? So we met up with our favorite concert-going friends,…


About Me

It's true! Despite playing defense virtually all my life against the onslaught of this sometimes-ugly aging process, it...has...arrived! I naively thought I would escape cellulite (the Cottage Cheese) and crow's feet (the Crepe Paper). But I didn't! And why didn't anyone tell me about this emotional roller-coaster that comes with being an Empty-Nester?! My name is Jodie Barringer Myers. I'm a 54-year-old Friday/chardonnay/ hydrangea-loving wife/mom/court reporter living in Sacramento (Gold River!), California. Writing is cathartic for me. And because I look to find humor and humility among the rubble that is my now very peri-menopausal self, I'm hopeful that you will laugh, cry, learn, enjoy and, most of all, relate to what I have to say. After all, we're all in this together, right?

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