August 8 — If I’m Not Going to Die, I’ll Survive

The last couple of days have been tough.

Yesterday, on the way to work, I had to reset the Prius battery twice. Then I had to do it again on the way home. So now the battery has apparently decided that it wants to become another full-time project.

The strange thing is that the engine shaking has stopped after the head-gasket sealant. I was worried about the engine, and now that problem seems to have quieted down.

Of course, the car still has to keep me humble.

Now it’s the batteries.

At least the Prius is giving me something to work on besides earning money.

Work itself has been a workout too.

Yesterday we spent the day scraping old paint from oil pipes. Today we were greasing fittings on the oil pumps. It sounds simple when you say it that way, but after doing it for hours, you realize that “greasing fittings” is another name for a full-body exercise program that nobody asked for.

By the end of the day, I was exhausted.

I’m hoping to get home tonight and fall asleep for a couple of hours before doing anything else.

Working hard at 55 is different than working hard at 25. At 25, you work hard and your body says, “Okay, let's do something else.”

At 55, your body says, “We need to have a meeting about this.”

But today I was talking to my friend, and I told him something that pretty much sums up where I am right now:

If I’m not going to die, I will survive.

Maybe that's not the most sophisticated philosophy in the world.

But sometimes you don't need a sophisticated philosophy.

Sometimes you just need to keep showing up.

The car needs fixing.
The house needs work.
The job is hard.
The body is tired.

But I'm still here.

So tomorrow, we'll see what breaks next.

And we'll deal with that too.