Awake-ish

I woke up. My left hand decided I was moving too early, and shut down. It's decided to stop sulking now, and is operating like a teenager, who doesn't want to get up for school.
"I am up. I am. God! You're always so horrible to me..."
This happens to me a lot. I get to play the neuro-lottery every morning, seeing what it is I have to work with that day. Is a pain in the arse, but 22 years into MS? I'll take it.
I was thinking this, as I read another story of someone dying tragically from MS. It's usually 20 years.   Ropey morning starts aside, and days that dwindle into dust, I'm actually doing alright.
If you can physically do what you want, but it isn't happening exactly how you want, right now? Stop fucking whining. Enjoy the walk