And I'm 61.
Also, writing is getting less hard.
But I'm still 61.
Faced with further contemplation of all those facts, I am going to bed.
Bonus comment. I have new slippers, about which I am overwhelmingly excited.
See previous comments about being 61.
ETA: Augh. I should have made it clear that yesterday was not my birthday, which was back last September. I was just whining about being old. Thanks to all for the birthday wishes, they will make my 62nd birthday, eight months or so from now, extra nice.
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