A hundred years. What an incomprehensible amount of time to be alive. My whole life I have assumed I would die long before my 50th birthday, after all, early death runs in my family and I am a notorious risk taker. But today I pondered the thought of living a full century.
What brought this on, you may be wondering. As with most things, it was work related. I was working on a delightful looking elderly woman when I, by chance, noticed her age. She looked a lot younger than her one hundred years. Usually I am quite cranky when I have to perfect the elderly. There is a lot of loose skin to work with and families don't like when you take twenty years off of them. But this woman was different. She stuck me as someone who might have been interesting to know as a living person. (Me, want to talk to someone living?) Maybe I found an age group I have a fondness for... the over 100's.
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