Originally Posted Thursday, April 18, 2013
I go to bed early, sleep, and wake unrested. I am tired all day, my body tingling with fatigue. Is it apnea or some mental disturbance? Or is this the permanent condition of the aged? Sluggish and slow. Younger friends and co-workers now tease me about my age in a way they do not tease other people my age. It is funny to them, somehow, that I am getting older. Some, I believe, see it as a betrayal. There are others still who are happy and eager to "get even." These are the ones I worry about most.
My intimates have always been an eclectic mix of ages. After college, I moved into an old apartment building that had until that time been reserved for people on fixed incomes. They were small units with a bedroom and a small bath, a small living room that had a kitchen "nook," a simple indentation that held a refrigerator, sink, and stove. I used to walk with some of the other residents at night or sit with them on the upper balcony listening to their tales. They liked me even though I was a longhaired hippy with a beard. I got a kick out of them and was attentive rather than tolerant. We were, in some sense, pals.
I have been tolerant with most of my peers.
And. . . I may have mentioned somewhere before this my wholesome affection for youth and beauty.
As the sun comes up, I feel a bit more awake, perhaps even a brief surge of energy. As always, there is much to do of the variety I'd prefer not to. Tonight I will have a farewell cocktail with Red who is leaving for Europe once again, returning to her beau. And so I post a photo of her here reading a small, leather bound atlas. It fell open, she said, to the country of her destination.
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