3:38:12 pm on a fine Sunday afternoon when for once it's not raining and it's not hotter than shit.
What the hell do old people do? I'll tell ya, Not Much.
Disclaimer: The title of this post is and every other post is based on my memories and on my opinions. So let me make this clear right from the start, everything in this post is created from my own recollections, which may be faulty because I am old, or because I choose to lie about it, take your pick. At any rate, everything I post here belongs to me, the good the bad, and the ugly, and is a product of my highly developed imagination. If I use a situation that you know about and it was actually different, then shaddup! , just read it, and don't ruin a good story with a correction about some trivial things called facts. It's a story, stories are based on what people think and everybody knows that people lie. Fuhgeddaboutit!!
About every day starts the same way. It's 2 a.m., and I gotta go pee. Then it's 4 a.m., and I gotta go pee. Then I get up. One bottle of water, start the coffee maker, get my bucket of pills, my cell phone, and my book if I'm reading one at the moment. Take all of my stuff and go find my wheelchair and sit at the table and tune on the TV and tune it into the weather channel and see how badly my day is going to be ruined by the weather today.
I make plans to do things every day and somehow and someway things get messed up before I even get started.
