I'm fighting off something. The balls of my feet and the tops of my knuckles have been aching for the last several days. I'm guessing it must be some sort of flu, because going back to sleep with a large quilt and a hot cup of tea sounds really great now.
The worst part about it is that it makes me wonder what the next fifty years are going to be like. When one is walking to the store and it's mildly painful, it brings thoughts of mortality and decay to the forefront. My calves and knees were complaining as I walked down the grocery aisles. "If you can walk you can dance," is a snappy rejoinder I like to tell myself--but what if you can't walk?
Ibuprophin was my friend last night, and soon it will be my friend again. In the meantime, I'm thinking about various relatives and in-laws with arthritis who somehow remain cheerful.