Is this what getting old is going to feel like? Because I can remember when any hotel room was a new adventure.
And part of me hollers that no thunderstorm should ever be…just another thunderstorm.
But I’m tired tonight. It’s been a good day, a good trip, time with good friends, a lot to look forward to tomorrow. But I miss Frank. And I’m tired.
It occurs to me that this grumpy lassitude is what being tired has always felt like, at every age I’ve been so far.
Good night, thunderstorm. I need some sleep.