If I exercised more, or enough, or (sometimes) at all, I would not need so much cosmetic help to look presentable. I would be flushed with health. The cheekbones I painstakingly highlight with a tan-colored stick would be naturally prominent. 

I like makeup much more than I like exercise, however. Makeup doesn’t hurt my knees, which are rickety, or lead to any unforeseen mishaps – such as the time I power-jogged down the basement stairs backwards. 

My friends who exercise religiously say that they can no longer feel truly energized (or, at the end of the day, restful) if they skip their ritual. I wish I could feel that way, especially when I’m staring into the darkness at 3 a.m., feeling like the Madame DeFarge of insomniacs, puzzling away at keeping the rest of the world safe until morning. 

They say it’s never too late to start an exercise habit. If “they” said that tomorrow would be too late, I would probably start today.

Or maybe I’d just buy some better concealer, to go with the seven kinds I already have. – JM