Not liking much of anything

This summer I am in the grip of some weird kind of malaise where I don't like much of anything, most of all myself. I think it has something to do with how I am feeling about watching my body age - somehow, it doesn't seem right to me for a person with such ugly, spider-veined, white and puckery middle-age thighs to experience pleasure. I don't know how I got caught up in such a puritanical vise, but there it is. I have had similar feelings on and off since turning about 45 - mostly relating to sexuality and attractiveness. I have had discussions with other middle-aged women friends, and you stand in front of mirror, and put clothes on and take them off, and for us it's not "hot" vs. "not-hot"; rather it's "hot" vs. "ridiculous". None of us wants to be the old lady in the too-short skirt.

My brother recently wrote a nice post about feeling lucky for having such a nice life. I have an equally nice life - though he's got the summer off this year, and I am feeling overworked and over-stressed, teaching an online class with 44 students, and buying a 2nd house, and worrying about my teen-aged sons - so I suspect his sense of well-being is a little more elevated than mine. But anyways, I should be liking things a little more.

Cooking is still pretty fun, and I do like taking pictures of the food. I made a really good lasagna last night, from Deborah Madison's Vegetarian Cooking for Everyone, with chard and eggplant in it, along with the more usual ricotta, mozzarella, noodles, and tomato sauce.