Rested?

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I mentioned that I missed playing rec basketball because I got old.

“You can still play,” Kathy said.

“Can you imagine?”

And I had some days in a row away from work - 4 straight off days is a lot for me!

The latest I slept in was 6:45.

The cat has something to do with that. Sometimes I gotta’ pee and once I’m walking there isn’t any going back to sleep.

As I approach my 59th birthday being rested is a rare thing.

A round of golf ends with an ice pack and the massage gun.

If we have the gall to start a movie at 8 p.m. or later that is going to likely turn into a 2-night mini-series.

“How much time is left?” I’ll ask as we get near the end of an episode.

“Twelve minutes.”

“Oh, I can’t stay up that long.”

And most nights, I fall asleep holding the book I’m reading.

I’ll wake up a half an hour later, finish the chapter I’m working on, and go to sleep.

And Monday was the 27th anniversary of my torn Achilles tendon.

The one major thing I remember about that injury was how busy my life was at that time, and 💥-  I was stuck on the couch having a sleeping contest with my dog.

That was the beginning of the end, I suppose.

The torn tendon robbed me of my blinding speed and my vertical leaping abilities.

“Imagine how we’re gonna’ feel in 27 more years,” Kathy said.

Eighty-six years old?

That will be fun.

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