It seems that with each year, I need to be increasingly stoic about my pain. This year was exceptional for several reasons. The easy ones are the objective physical pains. "Your patella is fractured, it's becoming arthritic, deal with it". OK, it still f*cking hurts! Suck it up. Then there is the upcoming decade anniversary of Chris' death - something that I still can't process. Good thing my cadre of coping skills are exceptionally well developed. "Look how much better off you are than that". That's lame. Blue has suggested that I should expect (and plan for) excellence. Right on! I just need to motor though life's crud until we find the corduroy.
Good Times at the Pig Pen (ca. 1977)