I have reached a stage in my life, where I don’t agree with anything. I’m moody, to the point of being downright grouchy. What in the world happened to me?
I’ve come to the conclusion, after much self diagnosis, that it’s my age. I’m young enough, that I still have all of these ideas and plans...but old enough, to not be able to implement ninety percent of them. I’m beginning to think that a person has two sensible stages in life...when they’re young and when they’re old. That middle area is a fog of denial, confusion, and downright stupidity.
I told not a single soul, but I attempted to start exercising (when nobody was around). After ten minutes; my heart was pounding, my limbs were quivering, and I peed my dadgum pants. I mean, I know one has to start slow and build upwards. But good Lord, at that rate, I’d have to live to be two hundred years old, before accomplishing a decent thirty minute work out.
I tried, wholeheartedly, to sit down and finally take the steps, toward getting my little Dingbat book published. Hmph. Well, long dead, are the days of typing up an actual manuscript, sending it off, and awaiting a response. It’s all done on a computer nowadays; with specific fonts, margins, and a whole score of other things to figure out how to do. My God, I’d need the Wizard of Oz, to tackle it.
I’ve realized that my brain is stuck in the 80’s, whilst the body has rapidly advanced into the harsh present. It’s a dern shame, that it couldn’t have gone the other way around.
So, I’m grouchy. But all is not lost and all is not hopeless. There are a few good things, going in my favor. I can’t get pregnant (as if), and I don’t get pimples. There’s not a self respecting pimple in creation, that would even think about landing on this Sahara Desert. I rarely have to shave, because my leg hairs have all but quit growing. I can see through a lot of malarkey, that I used to be oblivious to. I guess that when physical sight diminishes, inward sight strengthens. This could cause ample amounts of grouchiness, in itself, though. And finally, clothing choices are minimized, as well. No need to search high and low, for this or that. No matter the brand or style, anymore. If it’s cheap, comfortable and covers all the ugly parts; I’ll buy it.
So yes, I’m grouchy these days. But at least I can still laugh about it. ‘I can laugh at the fact that I’m grouchy.’ Does that even qualify as being thoroughly grouchy? Maybe I’m not as bad off, as I thought. Still not gonna exercise, though.
