I feel old today, an anachronism with creaky knees and screaming hips. I woke up this morning like any other, wondering what parts of me would hurt, and lo and behold, my body was generous in that regard. It is going to be a day when nothing will get done quickly, if anything gets done at all. I can feel it.
In fact, this blog is a minor miracle.
My computer wants to fight with me. Once upon a time it was top of the line, state of the art, back when Windows Vista was called the great new hope. But it, too, is a dinosaur now that won't allow upgrades. My car is nine years old, and the navigational system is called a map. My cell phone is just a phone -- it has a couple of apps, but I don't know how to use them and am not particularly interested in learning. I do have a brand new notepad -- it cost $1.39 at the stationary department; I already had a pen.
Complain, complain, complain -- I feel like a curmudgeon. I fear I am becoming one of those wise old ancients who warns you, eye gleaming, "Don't ask me how I feel unless you've goit three hours."
But that's just today.
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