wroughtn_harv
Super Member
For the last couple of weeks I've been wondering if I was a third of the half of a man I used to be.
Seriously, I was thinking that fifty eight was the age everyone had warned me about. You know the one where it all stops but the crying.
Manual labor seemed to be killing me. Like I said, "one third of half of the man I used to be."
Then yesterday they brought in a crew of laborers to dig trench where I was working. I recognised the pausing as they stopped often to talk or just catch their breath. I started thinking maybe it wasn't my age but the heat after all.
Today it was like I was ten years younger. I was able to kick it with the old grin and enjoy the work.
The difference?
8 degrees.
104 versus 96.
Seriously, I was thinking that fifty eight was the age everyone had warned me about. You know the one where it all stops but the crying.
Manual labor seemed to be killing me. Like I said, "one third of half of the man I used to be."
Then yesterday they brought in a crew of laborers to dig trench where I was working. I recognised the pausing as they stopped often to talk or just catch their breath. I started thinking maybe it wasn't my age but the heat after all.
Today it was like I was ten years younger. I was able to kick it with the old grin and enjoy the work.
The difference?
8 degrees.
104 versus 96.