Zero Holds His Tongue

I Am Getting Real Old

Today was a brisk, chilly, bracing sort of day. During my lunchtime walk I felt peppy enough to do a cartwheel when I thought no one was looking. Bad idea. My shoulders have not yet forgiven me.

And my knees crackle and pop when I hacky sack.

And my back aches. And so do my hours after a full day of monitor strain. They didn’t do this five years ago!

And, dear lord, I cannot hold my sugar or my caffeine anymore. Sugar does, oo — nasty things to my metabolism. And the things coffee does to my bowels are positively indecent. I’m sorry, I had to go there; it would be a real post if I didn’t wander into the TMI fold and roll in the mud a bit.

And, furthermore — I can no longer go without sleep as blithely and energetically as I once did. I remember moments from my headstrong youth when I felt a vague sense that, if I really put my mind to it, I could accomplish *anything* — that energy wasn’t a material obstacle if I focused hard enough. Ah, what a pleasant delusion that was.

Perhaps I can restore it by overdosing on coffee and candy tomorrow…

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