It is slightly bumming to me of late that I am not the person I used to be. I just got done reading a bunch of blog entries where people were taking their bikes out on greenways and whatnot and riding gleefully and being out and it occurs to me once again that the ways in which my life is changing are not all wonderful.
On vacation my sister said that I was amazingly positive for someone in my situation. I told her that there was no reason to not be positive because a) the situation can’t be helped and b) there are a lot of folks who have it worse than I do.
But today for some reason I’m finding myself a bit mooning over the fact that at 38 I am less mobile than my 91 year old grandmother.
I realised, though, that my reading habit may be the thing that is saving my sanity. True, I’m less mobile than a 91 year old woman, but once I sit down with a book I can go absolutely anywhere. I’ve been re-reading The Winds Of War and mentally have been to Germany a half dozen times, London thrice and just had dinner with FDR. Not bad for a woman who can no longer walk downstairs without whimpering and crying and making a histrionic deal of the whole thing.
Yes, the books are saving my sanity.