I don't feel tired. In fact, I feel rather energetic. Probably as energetic as a man my age can expect to be . . . and perhaps more energetic than most younger men. I'm usually up early. Sometimes the first in the gym. I work a full day; I write a full day. I eat fewer donuts. I usually cook dinner. I am typically the last to go to bed.
But several friends have recently commented: "You look tired."
Tired? As in Geritol tired? Tired blood? Nahhh!
I point out that I may just be getting old. I woke up a few minutes ago with a pain in my left shoulder that nearly brought tears to my eyes. My wife tells me it's arthritis. But whatever it is--a torn rotator cuff, strained muscle, or uncle arthur--I keep lifting through it. And I write through it, too.
Becky points out that I've been doing the bulk of my late-night writing from the couch. But I'm just relaxed. I write my best love poems from a prone position.
When I really want to get serious about writing, I go vertical.
No, I'm not tired. All it takes is a few conversations with editors, a contract or two, and I'm up all night.
Pass the coffee and Tylenol.