Sunday, July 6, 2014

President Granny

"Oy, where are my pills?"
Honestly I feel pretty young most of the time. Except when I don't. Like every night when I drag myself up the stairs to bed. Or every morning when I wake up and hurl myself out of bed. After the coffee and the shower and a brisk walk, I'm ready for most anything, but to be brutally honest, this old gray mare ain't what she used to be, and why should I be? I just turned 68 and have been running around like crazy since I started walking at age one.

My mind is still as sharp as ever, but my skepticism has grown to mammoth proportions. Also, things I once found so exciting seem only blah now, having done them countless times. And while my flame still burns, the spark is weak, often requiring jumper cables to get me going. I would not want me for president, just like I don't want Hillary Clinton, my peer, to be representing us around the world.

Let's get some new blood in the White House, not someone on blood thinners! Jeez, what if she's at some big important meeting and she cuts her finger or something? She won't clot!

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