So this is Old Age....

It creeps up on you. You don't think much about it until one day, you notice that you aren't quite as round, as firm, as fully-packed as you used to be. There's some wrinkles where you didn't need ironing before. And systems that never complained of doing what they are made for, ones you simply took for granted, are now letting you know they're there and that they aren't entirely happy about it.

You wake up far too early in the wee small hours of the morning - a time when you once might have been just getting home from a night on the town - and as consciousness returns, you don't bound out of bed, ready to pounce on a new day. You lay there quietly, thinking, "Gee - my back's not aching, and my leg hasn't got any cramps, and my neck isn't making funny noises when I move my head....do I really want to change all that by trying to get up?"

So you lay there for maybe five minutes, listening to the sounds of a new day in the neighborhood outside your window, enjoying the not-aching parts for a few minutes, until your waterworks remind you that it might be wise to become reacquainted with the bathroom, just in case it's getting lonely, and you don't want a puddle on your clean sheets. And you think "So this is Old Age..." And now you know why Mother never told you there'd be days like this.