aging sucks

After years of good health, I'm now besieged by niggling imperfections. I've been to the doctor's office three times in two months (OK, once was an annual physical), which is one more time than in the past six years. Worst, it's affecting my exercise. I'm off the soccer pitch for at least another two months with this knee thing, and I missed half of the season with foot and groin injuries. Good thing I got my MVP last year.

Another way aging sucks is that I can't keep up any more. Grownups used to joke about getting their seven-year-olds to program their VCRs. I'm not a total Luddite, I suppose, but in the last fifteen minutes I stumbled upon two different blogging memes (what a poetically constructed word for its meaning and for the blogosphere) that left me, like going to the skate park, both eager to participate and terrified that I might break my neck if I try.

Who has time to participate?

On the other hand, I gained a minor victory for being lampooned on another popular blog. An anonymous coward posted a satirical set of comments, including one from me. I'm terribly flattered. It means I've become recognizable at least one place in the blogosphere. That's enough for now; I'm sure, however, that everything will keep flowing past me at increasing speed until one day I'll find I'm asking my seven-year-old to program my new cell phone.

Aging sucks.

Writing Update
I have completed the first draft of my synopsis of Forced Air, though I must knock it down from six pages to five for the PNWA contest. I've got a good hook, and I've revised the first few pages to the point I think they're almost readable. I am hoping that in another week I'll have my PNWA entry ready for critique. If you're interested in critiquing it, let me know.