My Week So Far

“You’re getting old,” they say, “It’s only downhill from here.”

Such words of comfort! Please speak more of them to me, gentle folk.

I understand Catch-22 now, all the nonconsecutive skipping through time.

Perhaps it is karma. I taunted my father with the typical gag gifts one gets on a fiftieth birthday. Now the universe has decided to “even the score.”

The doctor shrugs, “Don’t know what it is. I know what it’s not, but not what it is.”

He prescribes me a tiny pill. Thank goodness for four dollar prescriptions at Wal-Mart. They make me drowsy. They make me incoherent.