There's a woman high up in management where I work, and her smile never reaches her eyes. I've heard her tell amusing stories about her kids and chuckle, but somehow her smiles are more susceptible to gravity than other people's smiles, and they can't quite find the strength to climb all the way up to make crinkles by her eyes.
I know there are lots of women, especially here in Southern California, who pay vast sums of money to have them removed, but I'd be willing to bet that this woman has no crows feet to speak of.
I'd hate to be her. (Granted, she'd probably hate to be me, since she's an executive and I'm at the bottom of the totem pole in our department, but that's another topic.) I'd hate to live a life where true, genuine humor and amusement and pleasure don't find their way into or out of my heart. I'd hate to be so guarded every minute of the day.
Life is too short to let the joy pass us by while we're focused on the pursuit of power or position or high income. Life is to be lived and enjoyed.
He who dies with the most toys is not the winner. The person who wins is the one with the deepest laugh lines and crows feet and with the shallowest furrows between the brows. I think I'm still in the running...
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