We all know the crazy aunt who wears purple all the time and kisses you on the lips when she see's you. She talks endlessly about dead friends and waxes eloquent about her 15 year cat Harold. She eats with her mouth open and her ears closed and probably hasn't walked a full block in several years.

Prepare yourself my friend, in a few years, that will probably be you.

Oh you can live in Denial. It's a very nice neighborhood I hear. Lots of classical music and nobody ever dies and 90 is the new 70. But eventually even Denial gives in to attrition and all the cool people move out (die) and you're left with just yourself, a mirror and the uncomfortable realization that your cat Harold is your only friend.

Eventually, we all go crazy.

We will only eat certain foods. We will keep to strict sleep schedules. We will eye the new postman warily and check to see if he might be a pedophile. We'll talk to the young man bagging our groceries until he makes up an excuse to leave and we'll watch him longingly as he rounds the corner. I know you'd rather not hear this. I'd rather not say it either. But truth hurts and no, it will not set you free. [I don't know who came up with THAT saying, probably some hippie from Vermont.]

I guess going crazy is Nature's way of preparing us for death. We look out the window one day and think, in a moment of clarity, jeez, I'm not sure I can really take much more of this. Life was MUCH more fun at 35, even 55. But this endless groundhog-day of an existence and the never-ending chores ["how many more goddamned dinners do I have to eat, anyway? It was way more fun when I was 6 and hadn't eaten everything 700 times already."] But I digress.

We just. Go. Crazy. Our young 'uns make eye contact to each other over coffee, eye contact that seems to say: "I want her coffee table, you can have that blue chair," even while you're telling them a super funny story about your nylons getting a run at the gin bar in New Orleans.

Your male counterparts who wear their pants up to their nipples, slide their dentures in and out of their mouths and hand out nickels to teenagers, sadly are considered more socially acceptable. Hey, I didn't promise you a rose garden. Yes sexism exists! Yes it's fu**** you over every step of the way. If you want a visual of the statement "Life is unfair", picture Sean Connery and Barbara Bush. They are the same age. But do you really want to go there?

Oh? You're heading back home to Denial? You think you left the stove on? Okay, I'll see you later. Take care! And here, here, you left your purple hat.