|It's the Little Things that Make Aging Hard!|
As I've admitted before, I am seventy-five years old. That's a fact. Here a few others: I live in a nice city condo, with plans to move into a luxury high rise lifetime care community within a year. I'm not rich, but I have enough income to live well on. I'm relatively healthy. I have an interesting, if non-lucrative, career and great memories. I've traveled the world. I have all the material goods I need or want. I have a few loving relatives, although I've chosen to live quite far away from them. I have a few good friends, both on line and off. So what's the problem? Many others are far less fortunate than I am.
So what brought this up? My carbon monoxide alarm is chirping again. I can't climb ladders (doctor's orders), and the noise is driving me crazy. It's a hard-wired celiing alarm with a backup battery, and the battery was actually changed fairly recently. It must have been an outdated or weak battery. The wind chill is below zero, and I don't have any fresh batteries. I'm also out of light bulbs. My building has no superintentent or regular maintenance man (the part-time man, who changed the battery last time, is not here today).
My file cabinets and closets need cleaning out. I have large things that need to be disposed of, but I can't lift or carry some of them. (Also, I admit to being lazy about such things.) I'm due for my volunteer assignment at the Chicago Cultural Center today, but it's really cold. I'll have to drive on slippery streets. I'm too proud to cancel when it's too late to find a replacement.
So there's my sad story. Ten or twenty years ago, none of these things would have caused problems. Either my husband would have fixed them, or I would have been agile enough to fix them myself. Today, it's time to call Mr. Handyman and hope that he can get here in time to save my sanity. At this point, cost is no object!
I'll feel more optimistic by this afternoon--I hope.