On Writing and Traveling while Aging

I am such a mess. Not just in terms of household (vanhold?) lack of tidiness. My digital writing files are all over the place, in multiple folders and formats, on multiple devices, and I can’t seem to consolidate them all into one place. So frustrating. Why has no one solved this problem yet?’

Also, I have not kept up with the classes in Naomi Dunford’s Write a Book with Me course (look it up; I can’t find the link) and I fear that I have missed a crucial solution to my problem.

But it is writing time, not studying or organizing time. I don’t feel right about not writing while I gather up all the things I’ve already written. But what am I writing? Drivel. This time could be better put to use.

I want to have a short book finished and up on Kindle by the end of the month. I can’t do that if I don’t get my shit together and get organized.

Also, I want to finish all the crochet projects by the end of the month, partly to get them off my back and partly to get paid. $225 would be a nice addition to my empty emergency fund.

All of which means that I have no time to waste, but here I am writing about not writing, as usual.

I had a good idea for a title yesterday while driving: “I’m Too Old for This” — to which I think I will add, “Shit”. “I’m Too Old for This Sh*t” (because I like the look of an asterisk there.)

So that’s something

What do you think? It dictates the whole tone–and subject matter–of the book, don’t you agree? I wonder if anyone else has a book by that title. But if I go look on Amazon, you know what will happen: I will fall down the internet rabbit hole. So I will save that little search for later.

But let’s think about what kind of book belongs to a title like that. A funny one, of course. Would it be about my travels? Seems like it would be more about aging. Maybe I could do both. After all, I am aging and traveling at the same time. I am traveling while aging. Or aging while traveling. Take your pick.

But what does that MEAN? What’s funny about it? Are my swollen ankles from driving all day yesterday funny? Yes, they are. Every miserable discomfort and frustration of road tripping at 71 is funny… at least it will be funny later.

And there are plenty of miserable moments

• Sitting in an outhouse trying to cure constipation while Scout whines outside is funny.
• Splashing piss on myself while trying to empty my bucket is funny. (Interesting how most of my humor revolves around toilets.)
• Trying to give a recalcitrant Scout a bath after she rolls in cow poop or a dead animal is funny (well, it is NOW.)

But what does any of that have to do with aging? Nothing, really, but then again, EVERYTHING I do has to do with aging, because I’m fucking AGING.

(Maybe I should stop swearing now, because I’m aging. Old ladies don’t swear, do they? Well, I do, and I’m not giving it up yet.)

Old people’s health problems are supposed to be funny–up to a point: the way we complain about our aching feet, our fascination with our bowel movements (or lack thereof), how we stoop when we walk (in PAIN, people, in PAIN).

I can see how that might be hilarious

Some things that are not funny, and that I’m getting tired of seeing in the media:

• The assumption that we are lonely, bored, and depressed.
• That we are all penned up in lonely, boring, and depressing nursing homes.
• That all we need are some CHICKENS TO CHEER US UP.

Please.

I am too fucking old for that shit.