Floating

I'm in a daze. I've been working on a few proposals and queries this week and finding myself frustrated with my inability to come up with good, solid prose for the articles I'm trying to write. I'm working on four different proposals right now and bop back and forth between them, trying to jog something worthy out of my constantly headached brain.
I've been reading a lot as well, so I've got a lot of words jamming up the works.
The headaches are due to my eyesight I'm afraid. Over the last several months my prescription has changed and I need to get into somewhere and get some new specs. I'm fretting over money, but this is probably not a place to skimp. I'm really just procrastinating the inevitable...I need bifocals and I know that, but that just seems to be admitting to an aging process I want to deny. However, I absolutely cannot read anymore with my glasses on, and that is just sad, sad, sad.
Last year when I went to the optometrist to get the perfunctory exam, the doctor told me that bifocals were in order. I told him, "no..I'm not doing that." And he smiled, that doctorly knowing smile and simply asked my age. I told him.
"Well, that's usually the age when it begins."
"Begins what? My RAPID DEMISE?!"
"Yes," he said, "Bifocals is the 'one foot in the grave' step...it's all over from here really."

Dammit. I knew it. I'm aging. @*#($)!

So, I'm sitting in New Seasons, drinking tea and withering into dust as we speak. Sorry Dad, I don't think I'll have time to write that best seller.