Once again my body betrays me. Plans delayed, daydreams shelved. A three-pronged attack. Blood, bowels and joints. No bad cover band for me tonight. No beers. Always plural beers are. You can’t have just one.
Depression is knocking but I’m not letting it in. This is not a new problem. Gout plagued me when I was racing and has often kept me off the bike. Asthma destroyed many a comedy set. Now I’m getting older and don’t expect things to get better.
Soon I will see a doctor and have the meds I need to keep these ailments at bay.