...which should come as no surprise. After all, I am old!
It's a strange sensation. In many respects, I'm in better shape physically than I was at age 35. I weighed more then, ate poorly -- I was married; my wife had a taste for the kinds of meals that are considered verboten today -- and certainly didn't get as much exercise.
In fact, I feel as if I'm 35 most days, and that is, as it should be, a good thing.
But there are exceptions, and today is one of them.
I look at the road ahead, measure its length and my strength, and wonder how much longer I can continue the battle. Worse, life has an evil way of showing me what I should have seen when I was 35 (or should be 35 now to savor), personal relationships and adventures forever denied to me at least in part because I have too many miles showing on my life's odometer.
Being married when I was 35, and staring into the barrel of an upcoming career change, my focus was on objects at close range. No looking at any sort of bigger picture and, even though I was beginning to realize that a divorce was imminent, no looking around for fresh companionship.
That number -- 35 -- just sits in my mind. Thirty would do; so would 40.
There's a lot of goodness, ability and energy left in this old body. Who will see that? Who will want to see that?
I won't write my answer as it seems to be now.
If nothing else, this shows why I don't write entries early in the day right now. One bad dream (at least I'm guessing that's what did it; don't remember) messes me up for the whole morning.
Maybe the rest of the day will be better. Here's hoping.
5 hours ago