We sat on a circle of rocks covered with moss a vivid green. The embers of our fire glowed red hot. High powered medicinal sour diesel OG kush lifted our spirits. A near nirvana moment. We celebrated the new season. Grateful for what we have. Strengthening our souls and minds for whatever comes next.
I choke up when it comes time to give the toast. I would like to give a toast since it is my birthday. I turn to catch her eye and raise my glass.
Here’s to Jo. She keeps me going. She has stayed two years with a man who had it easy and now has it hard.
I could not have made it without her presence. She can always stay.
In April I will turn 60. Hell, I am still waiting for puberty to wrap up. I have loved–it was mostly for animals–humans and dogs. When I was younger I smelled fresher, but now PU.
If my health insurance gets canceled that’s it. I am going to take 40 Ambien, sixteen shots of Tequila, eat 1 lb of bad sushi, then eat two whole Dominos large pizzas with extra cheese and four toppings. If that doesn’t kill me nothing will. I just hope I don’t wake up from that.
Bob, your job is done.
Time to relax, have some fun!
Try to be young, young at heart.
Try to forget: you are an old fart.
The bills will be due.
The tax man is lurking.
No worries–Marybeth is still working
Why work? What’s the point?
If it was me, I would smoke a joint.
Try to relax!
You and wifey can talk…
until she says, Bob please take a long walk.
Don’t get old, heavens above!
Stay the same:
The man we all love.
We are not yet married but she has already assumed the role of one who must be obeyed. I cringe when she talks of pain in her back and my world spirals down like a Netflix horror movie. As we lie in bed, the sheets move and bad smells happen. She does sometimes say excuse me in a creepy voice.
We speak. She says, “the dog is peeing on the coat you left on the floor. You are a slob.”
We are looking forward to marriage.
Doctor, sometimes I just want to go ahead and kick the bucket. I have no purpose. I don’t even feel like making whoopee anymore, not with my girlfriend anyway.
Stephen, you are too much. You are eating too much. And not exercising too much. Your purpose in life for at least the next two years is to get in shape for your kidney transplant. Sure, the last two years have been tough, and you have to be tougher. Get in shape. Take your meds. Fight for your life.
Thank you, Doctor, how much do I owe you? Somebody call 911– I’m having a heart attack.
“Do you feel OK?” The nurse was staring at me. I had barely finished my stress test. I stumbled off the treadmill. I was apparently white as a ghost. I had a pain in my chest. I started burping. The nurse went for the doctor. She had seen something in the data she was watching. The doctor came in the room. “Are you experiencing any chest pain?” she asked. I wanted to lie. I told them I had indigestion and burped. The doctor looked at the data. Her expression was one of concern. Another heart catheterization is ordered. Another set back on the road to recovery. I must be the warrior again. One day at a time.
I carry on.