I occasionally get a form from the Social Security Administration in the States. If my memory is not playing tricks on me, it arrives every two or three years. The form has to be filled out within sixty days if the monthly pension payments are not to be suspended. There are only a few questions to answer concerning my residence, marital status, dependent children, and the like. Although I realize that the form is a perfectly acceptable way to check on pensioners every now and then, I get fluster each and every time I receive it. The last time I received it was this morning. I filled out the form immediately and sent it back to the States at once. But I was shaking all the time. The shaking stopped only when the form was in its pre-addressed envelope, and the whole thing in the post office. In retrospect, I am quite annoyed with myself. Whence all the shaking? The best I can come up with at the moment is that the form from the Social Security Administration is about things existential. And one of such things is the very question whether or not I am still around. In the last analysis, it is about life and death. Sooner or later, I will fail to return the form.