If My Body Was A Car

If my body was a car, this would be about the time when I would be thinking about trading it in for a newer model.

I have reached the ripe old age where I have got bumps and dents and scratches in my finish, and my paint job is getting a little dull, but that’s not the worst of it.

My headlights are out of focus and it’s especially hard to see things up close.

My traction is not as graceful as it once was.

I slip and slide and skid and bump into things, even in the best of weather.

My whitewalls are stained with varicose veins.

It takes me hours to reach my maximum speed.

My fuel rate burns inefficiently.

But here’s the worst of it — almost every time I sneeze, cough or sputter, either my radiator leaks or my exhaust backfires.


I’m not sure who originally wrote this, but it’s all too true for so many of us folks who are steadily rolling down the other side of the hill.

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