Today was a pretty rough day for me.

You see, earlier this morning I had a follow-up appointment with my doctor because about six months ago I finally decided to look into this whole hereditary high blood pressure that my family is always griping about. We agreed that I would monitor my blood pressure over the next few months to see if there was really anything to worry about, and oh yeah – while I was at it, it wouldn’t hurt to lose a little weight along the way! If all went well, when I returned in the fall I’d be thirty pounds lighter, sporting the textbook example of what one’s blood pressure should be for a dashing young gentleman like myself, not to mention rock hard abs that you could rest your drink on…

Needless to say, all did not exactly go well because I’ve spilt more martinis over the last six months than I care to count, and oh yeah, the blood pressure ain’t much better either. I suppose it shouldn’t have come as too big of a surprise, seeing as instead of losing all sorts of weight like the doctor recommended, I opted to spend my summer not doing that at all. Don’t get me wrong – I did “try” every now and then, if you can call fifteen minutes a month on the treadmill “trying” (note: my doctor doesn’t!), but at the end of the day it finally becomes time to pay the piper and in my case, it would be a brief scolding by the doc for being incredibly lazy and a prescription for pills to lower my blood pressure back down to a level where I don’t have to worry about whatever happens when one’s blood pressure shoots through the roof.

Pretty hilarious topic so far, eh?!

Of course, the odd little twist to our story isn’t that my veins could explode from the insane PSI at any given moment, even as I write these very words! Nope, instead I find myself facing a very real and very daunting threat with each and every breath, as I periodically glance over at the newfound pill bottle on the kitchen counter, taking special note of its almost taunting proximity to the cookie jar, as if to say, “Not anymore, chubby! Your snacks are in the crisper of the refrigerator, and we’re not talking about those chocolate chips that you’ve got stashed away amidst the broccoli and carrot sticks…” Oddly enough, when it all comes down to it, I’m not as much concerned about the health risks involved with where I’m at right now as much as I’m just reminded all too well, as I mentally schedule out my new pill-taking schedule in my head, that gosh darn it – I’m getting old!

Pause for dramatic effect, and also for anyone older than 27 to get all “up in arms” about how 26 isn’t exactly the new 85 or anything…

Aside from taking the occasional antibiotic to fix me up when I was younger, I’ve never really had any “medications” that I needed to take on a regular basis, so just the concept of being one of you pill takers is a bit daunting all by itself to me. Also, being as absent-minded and lazy as I already am, I’ve already been running lines of “Uh – did I take my pills today?” and “I’d better not forget those…wait, what was I saying?!” through my head. Of course, I mean no offense to those of you who already are amongst the pill takers of our world, but let’s face it – you’re no happier to see me than I am to see you. Well, those of you who can actually see me, anyways. Did I mention that my vision has been starting to go, too?

So I’m sure that you’ve probably all figured out exactly where this is leading at this point – my new goal in life, outranking Buy a Sexy Sports Car and Get the Band Back Together, is now officially Find the Fountain of Youth. Originally I was going to make a go for the Holy Grail instead, but I saw that Monty Python movie one too many times when I was a kid and have had a deathly fear of bunny rabbits ever since! But I really think that I can pull this one off because, really, it’s either this or remember to take my pills each and every morning for the rest of my life. And we all know that the chances of that happening are about as good as my remembering to exercise along the way, so if I just so happen to come across an Eternal Ab Roller or something during my journey, that would be great.

I’ll most certainly keep you posted on my progress as my crew scours the land in search of that sacred talisman that holds the key to my not growing all old and wretched like the rest of you out there. But seriously, in the meantime if you could just leave a sticky note here or there reminding me to pop one of those anti-death pills every now and then, I’d appreciate it…

Together, with much effort and determination, we’ll help me defeat the fear of getting old, and with any luck, the aging process itself altogether! These are exciting times and I, for one, just can’t wait to get started! But before we begin, now if only I could remember where I left those pills…