So said the Swedish dentist this morning as he tipped the scary chair way over backwards and crammed two more dementia-inducing amalgam fillings into my head. God knows, I do look tired, grey, and ancient. For no reason, apart from stressing about inability to pay Wotan's insurance (HUGE rise in premiums for Christmas, and he's too old to switch. Most companies wouldn't take him on...) and various other important bills; dread of being 'helped back into the workplace', hypochondriacal(?) health frets, etc.
I keep thinking about how friends of the lamented John Peel all commented on how very tired he'd been looking just before he carked it, and remembering looking at my father a few days before he died, and thinking sympathetically. "The old bastard really looks exhausted"...Don't wanna die. I have so much whining still to do.