july 27 old
There are demarcators all through life, informal "this is how far you've gone" notches that aren't as obvious as, say, a sign you pass on the highway ——
KINGSTON 257km
MONTREAL 527km
—— but which are still more obvious than a leitmotif in a dream you barely remember having.
I don't know about you and your life, but when these subtle mile markers pop up in my life, I am almost never happy about it. Yes, I am laughing as I write this, but it's almost certainly a bad thing or a "you are dying slowly" thing. I'm definitely talking about, say, finding that first grey hair in your mop or seeing those first patches of grey (and then white) settle into your beard, but I'm also talking about when when members of your friend/acquaintance group start getting divorced or dying.
Anyway, today was a mile marker day, and, true to the custom, it wasn't a cool one. Rather, it was the first time I went to the doctor to get a referral to get a test done because I'm at the age they recommend you get that test done.
Get off my lawn.
🌲 gonna
🌼 go
🌱 touch Advil
🌳 grass PM
🌷 now
Be good to yourself.
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