When I had a real job, I could count on having two days off with my main squeeze, and we'd go do stuff in the mountains, go out to dinner occasionally, and generally kick back. Now, we don't know when we had time to work a real job! I bet it has something to do with getting OLDER, dammit.
As I get older, mole hills become mountains. Everything inside is saying "Slow down, man, smell the flowers!" My environment, which I created, says "Hop to it, bro...burning daylight, waintin' on dark". Time management is powerful lacking, as if I ever knew what it was in my other lives.
This aging process takes a little getting used to. Muscles that won't pick up 300 pounds anymore (thank goodness for tractors with front end loaders). Knees, legs, necks and hands that don't bend this way and that near as freely , or as far as they did 10 years ago. Try jumping off the tailgate of a pickup after Social Security sets in, and see if it ain't true. Ladders become scary things.
Days are now 8 hours long. I know. I get up, have coffee. eat supper, take pills, go to bed. What happened today? I'm sweaty, tired, aching, smelly...and still didn't get it done.
OK, I'm pumped, had my coffee, my cereal, my whine, and it's 8:43 AM (really 7:43 EST )...oh hell, where are my boots. Janice! Where ARE my boots? Now, where did I take them boots off.
Professor:
ReplyDeleteI'm younger than you (by a few years)
I have fewer active acres to tend.
I have fewer and simpler agricultural implements to manage.
I have a less active no-inventory business where you have one that is labor and inventory intense .
I am exceedingly humbled by the fact that I almost have the exact same problem set that you have down to "Gail, what have you done with my boots?"
//bb
Your whine is powerful stuff, Daddy--especially in the winter months. It wouldn't be nearly so powerful if you always knew where your boots was.
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