A Little Bit Stronger

Sometimes I feel sorry for myself. I think I even enjoy my wee pity parties. And it's not like I don't have good reason to.

I spent the past eight years mostly in surgeries, of one kind or another, or recovering from surgeries. In the process I gained weight. A lot of weight. And it's become much harder to take it off than it was to put it on.

I also incurred a huge amount of debt, became unemployed, and largely unemployable. I lost several people I cared about during this time too. By that I mean, they died.

So when I should be thinking about winding things down toward retirement--buying a home someplace near a golf course, where it's warm year round--I am instead back in college: struggling to keep up with the reading and writing assignments, and with the other students--who are a good thirty years younger than I am--and battling the prejudices of people who don't think I belong here.

The good news is I have found so many young people who are wonderfully accepting of me, and even helpful. I love what I'm learning. I'd do this even if I never earned a penny from it, though it would be nice to eat. And as to tough times? I am, after all, an old soldier.

I enjoy my pity party for a second more. Then, a little bit stronger, I click on one of my favorite musicians at YouTube--like Sara Evans--and get back to doing my homework. Trust me, there are a lot worse things to do, and a lot worse places to be. So enjoy a little Sara Evans, on me.