Sick

I'm sick and so world-weary today. I often tell people that if I could wake up one day and be 60, I would be very happy. I wish I could take birthdays like I take stairs--three at a time. I don't know whether everyone feels this way, or if it's a symptom of who I am. Usually I distract myself from any feelings of emptiness or pointlessness with games: mind games, power games, money games. It's hard to get excited about any of those things when I'm sick, though. All I feel is a sense of my own mortality and weakness. Maybe I'm just listening to too much oboe music.