Another Day of Pain

Nothing ever comes easy for me. I live in constant pain and so depend on pain medication to get me through most of the time. Even learning this stinking computer doesn't come easy for me. You'd think it wouldn't be that hard. I mean kids are learning it from kindergarten on up, why can't I. I used to be a typesetter, and I think that's my problem. I am still thinking old school. The language has changed so much, and I'm having a real hard time with it; it's the little things that trip me up. Oh, well I must persevere, and this too will come to me. Writing is the one thing that I can still do, and whether it's songs or musings from my mind, it seems to be the only thing that's left for me. I'm getting old and sometimes I feel like I have nothing left. All my skills are gone; my kids are grown up with lives of their own, and I rattle around in my house all by myself, with nothing to occupy my time but my thoughts. That's not good; it gets old. So here I sit with my aching back and my past to fill my thoughts. It's time to write that book that I was talking about. But who would read it; well, you never know. Maybe there's someone out there that could benefit from my experiences. I've gone through some incredible times, some good and some bad. Maybe it's time to put them out there.