Hunting Easter Eggs, Alone

I AM ABSOLUTELY EXHAUSTED from Easter, and I'm not even religious. I go along with religious holidays, to some extent, just for the fun of it, to blend in, sit back, and enjoy. The great thing about getting older, among the few remotely good things about getting old, is that you can have an Easter egg hunt all by yourself, including hiding your own Easter eggs, then looking for them. You'll never find them, trust me. I might try to get back out today for a little post Easter desperation last ditch effort, because, after all, a good hard boiled egg is worth searching for, especially if its colored some pretty bright color. I just wonder where those dad blasted things are...I recall, vaguely, hard boiling a dozen or so eggs the day before Easter, then painting them, which was a blast and remindful of childhood, then, walking around my large yard, and hiding them...from my future self. The actual hunt was a hoot; I musta spent a good three hours out there Sunday morning, with rest periods for coffee here and there, and, shockingly, never came up with nary a one. You'd think I could have done better, considering that I hid them, and all, but, no go. And so it goes. maybe the birds'll capitalize on my senility, oops, I mean an enhanced tendency to fail to recall certain small details of one's recent daily life.