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Monday morning, so begins another week--- Let me see? Ah yes! Sore leg, hip and aching joints. I had to comprehend getting out of the bed this morning, firstly shuffling to the edge and then ... wait for it! One leg out and another still to go. I finally straightened up to every bone creaking like an old ship lost at sea.


I'm 49 in exactly one month's time. I feel 79. I have to accept that I can't rush around as I once did. Age related or not, I'm just not capable. My head tells me I'm 18 my body reminds me that I'm not!


I still have my holiday to look forward to and that thought will keep me going for the rest of the week, the promise of a pain free week in the sun, Raynaud's free and able to appear normal for a short while.


I have a busy week in store. My car goes to the garage tomorrow, then I have an appointment with some official about my dad. I'll be racing to the radio station afterwards so Tuesday is looking rather full. Thursday, I have an hair salon appointment. My hair needs attention; oh yes I could quite easily scare crows with my present style. Then it's off to the dentist and probably my purse will be much lighter by the end of the day! The evening will cost even more. My daughter won an award at college and whilst I'm very proud of her acheivememts, I can't help thinking that Thursday will make a great hole in our bank balance!


Friday is looking okay so far and by then I'll be grateful for the rest. I'm sure there's something I can't remember at the moment, hence the diary, another sign of getting old. If it's not in my diary you can bet on me forgetting to do it, go there, or keep it! My mind is so full, I'm out of memory! I need a card or something with another few gigabytes.

Wouldn't it be good if I could delete some of the rubbish I don't use anymore? I'm sure it's clogging my mind. I could make room for more useful stuff or at least remember basic things!


Birthdays don't stick in my brain these days and I'm almost paranoid about missing my relation's or friend's big days. I try and write them all down but usually lose the paper I wrote them on. I even lost a diary once and found it some years later. I was appalled when I read how many birthdays had passed by and I'd forgotten.


I guess it's all part of getting old. At this rate I'll be out of memory before 60. By the way, "Who are you?"


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