it seems absurd i don't know my body better or how to take care of it by sixty. does not bode well for the slim future. each step is fraught again as before with my feet. i can't get much older. i haven't provided for old age and infirmity. i feel sad going on inadequate walks. i can't rest on the longer walks of healthier time. my last affliction lasted long and stopped me cold for a while, and is not long past. if this keeps up i should resign. but resignation is the end. i'm not there yet, but i'm precarious, as many of us are.
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