Riding the Horse

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It's a lonely proposition when you realize there are left days in front of the horse than what's in back of the cart.

I get this way every year in the Fall and coincidentally its because my birthday is in the Fall. Over the course of the last few weeks I've been walking around thinking...46? Really! 46? You've got to be kidding me! 46? I just turned 21!

It blows my mind and as I was discussing this with a co-worker today. It isn't quite as easy to watch the 27-Time Defending World Champion Yankees win a playoff game in the wee hours of the morning and then get up nice and early to start work. I did it, mind you, but I was a step slow.

Besides, I watched the game, laying on a pillow - with the sound off because the announcers suck - and not putting forth any sort of effort at all.

How did I get tired?

Why did I wake up feeling worn out?

I'm getting old...or I already got old.

"You're still a baby," my 55-year old co-worker said. "I'd kill to be 46 again."

Of course, the best option is to keep on getting older. There's so much more life to live, so much more that needs to be done, but is it too much to ask to do it:

1). Without being sore? The ache moves from place-to-place - it's currently in the right knee.

2). Without waking up in the middle of the night? To pee. Can't make it six hours without going pee? When did that happen?

3). Without feeling your eyes close right after Judge Judy is over at 7:30?

4). Without your kids listening to your music and saying, 'This guy is a dinosaur?'

5). Without whining, complaining, or becoming a bitter old guy?

They talk of aging gracefully.

Forty-Six?

Really?

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