I feel old.

This morning I awoke to a beautiful spring day complete with blue sky and birds chirping. If I were in a movie scene, idyllic flute music would be playing in the background. While pondering dreamily over how wonderful my life is and what the day might bring, I rose from my bed and took a step toward the bathroom. Suddenly I was overcome by a freakish dizzy spell, causing me to fall to the side, ricochet off the hard wooden bookshelf, careen into the sharp corner of the nightstand, and finally crumple to the floor. It was one of those timeless moments that seemed to happen in both the blink of an eye and forever in slow motion. As I lay there stunned, I couldn't help but notice the irony of the situation and laugh through the stinging pain in my back.

Perhaps this is the reason that I don't exercise more. Look what can happen just getting out of bed in the morning. I have a serious shiner on my back now. In contrast, my boyfriend played two hours of softball today without a scratch. I think tomorrow I will sit up first like the 34-year old crone that I am, and gradually ease into the high agility task of rising from bed. If I feel particularly frisky, I may even brew a pot of Earl Grey, put on a floppy wide-brimmed hat, sit on the front stoop, and scowl at small children who ride their bikes too close to my lawn. I would love to keep writing, but the arthritis is setting into my achy joints. That's all for now.