In Which I Passed Through a Portal on the Day of the Blood Moon Whilst Buying Chicken


Yesterday was a troubling day.

Not only was it the day of the last of the blood moon tetrad, which was also supposed to usher in the end-of-the-world-financial-zombie-apocalypse (I’m not saying it still won’t), but I also passed through a portal that was most certainly at least ten more years away. I’m convinced this blood moon thing did something to speed up time. Read on to discover why.


It all started so innocently, as I’m told such things do. I was in the drive-thru buying some lunch for Isaiah and myself following the morning church service. Our house was full of guests (the evangelist and his fiance and a dog named Stella and the rest of our brood).  Since Isaiah and I were feeling poorly, we were on our way to a friend’s very quiet house to rest in quiet tranquility.  (Thanks, Christopher!)

Thinking a bit of chicken would perk us up, we waited in the looooooong  line that is our local southern fried chicken establishment. (It’s not that the lines are long, it’s just that this particular eatery always has extremely slow service).

Finally, I pull my car up to the window to pay for our order.


It looked innocent enough. Little did I know it was a portal to that dreadful place all women are convinced they will never pass through.

But I was wrong. It happened. Just like that. Right there in my car, wearing my Sunday best.  A handsome teenager sucked me into the vortex with seven devastating words:

  1. Would
  2. You
  3. Like
  4. The
  5. Senior
  6. Citizen
  7. Discount?


I took the selfie pic (below) of me this morning in my car, still perplexed that I had been so abruptly pulled into the whirlwind of senior citizenry. I’m still convinced it was a case of mistaken identity. (So, I may or may not have edited the photo to blur out a few wrinkles…there aren’t that many…,right? Right?)


Shouldn’t there be  some sort of warning before this happens? A summons delivered to your door by the sheriff? A text that asks you to enter a code for an option to delay said crossing over? A simple phone call?

Instead I’m now suffering from post-traumatic-they-think-I’m-antiquated-disorder.

Ahem. Just for the record? This is old:



This is not.



Now, excuse me while I call a plastic surgeon. Aging gracefully isn’t in my DNA. This girl’s going into it kicking and screaming.

Would you be so kind as to tweet?


Shouldn’t there be a warning before they suck you into the senior citizen vortex?

How KarlaAkins Passed Through a Portal on the Day of the Blood Moon Whilst Buying Chicken


Comments 12

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  1. I’ve learned to relax and enjoy the ride — and what a ride it is! I remember the shock of getting my first AARP magazine — ‘way too soon! And then came the discounts…movies, free soft drinks, etc. This isn’t so bad, I thought. Now that I’m comfy in this particular dimension, with many amazing grandkids and our own kids going off on their various adventures, which I get to vicariously live in my imagination, I have this advice for you young whippersnapper — the BEST is yet to come! Don’t fear that portal!

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      Patty, I’m sure in time I will grow used to the new digs on this side of the portal. I’m a bit resistant to change. Do like the idea of discounts, though. 🙂 Thanks for the encouragement regarding the best to come. I already enjoy an abundance of grandchildren. And I concur–that part is more than the best! Total. Awesomeness.

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      LOL, J’nell, why thank you on the makeup. And the comment that I don’t look exactly ready for the portal. Alas, but I’ve already been sucked in! You’re a dear to be so kind.

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