What do you see yourself like at age 90? Perverted old man? Bag lady? Walmart greeter?
I imagine I'll be the crazy old lady with a million cats who wears all of her jewelry at once, goes to the same restaurant every day, sits in the same seat, and carries on a conversation with my deceased husband. I'll have the creepy old house on the hill that all the kids will be scared to go to, but the ones who do will get really good candy and I'll buy all their fundraiser stuff. I'll die in the creepy old house, and the neighbors will tell stories for years afterwards that I still haunt it.