A Little Older Each Day...

I'm slowing down. No sense fighting it, I'll just go with the flow, zen-like in my acceptance of those things I cannot change. If I seem a little depressed, well, maybe I am. Why?
   I can't eat my weight in doughnuts any longer.
   Time was, in the heady days of my youth, doughnuts were like Pez, they just popped into my stomach, with a minor interruption provided by my teeth. I could go through six without blinking, and I'd have to pace myself out of respect for the others in the office. After lunch, though, all bets were off, any remaining doughnuts were counting their remaining time in minutes.
   On this National Doughnut Day, I celebrated by purchasing two doughnuts from Winchell's (no Dunkin' Donuts here in Pasadena), one sugar-coated regular, and one chocolate cake with frosting and nuts. No problem, right? Two doughnuts, one glass of milk, bada-bing, bada-boom, and we're looking forward to lunch.
   I couldn't finish them both. I actually saved half of the chocolate one in the refrigerator.
   I'm worthless and weak. I've disgraced the memory of the gourmand I used to be. I'd drown my sorrows in a pint of ice cream, but I probably couldn't choke that down either.
   I might as well hike my pants up to my armpits and start muttering to myself, I'm already an old man. Now get off my lawn, you damn kids...