I’ve got to stop having good days.
I started out at the Chiropractor and it went well. The usual whining from me and “What? What happened?” from her. She always knows why I’m whining but it’s not like she’s the one that’s caused the pain that she’s trying to fix. We laugh a lot there, if you can believe it.
Then I went off to get new sunglasses. My old ones, I found out, were made in 2002. I love them so much that even tho the lenses started to pop out and, finally, the metal frame itself broke, Tom still kept fixing them for me. At this point there’s so much glue on one of the lenses it’s starting to get kind of hazy when I’m outside.
Tom met me at Lenscrafters (glasses in one hour, people!) and we went to lunch at Cosi. Then he left me to wander LLBean until my timer went off.
Fun times, all around. See, I think that’s where my problem starts. Every time I’m enjoying my day I get a call from
My brother: “The Nursing Home called and …”
The paralegal: “Remember that deposit we spoke about 3 months ago? What was it for?”
The Nursing Home: “Hi! Just wanted to tell you your Dad will no longer be covered by Medicare and you’ll have to pay his full bill.”
My brother again: “The Nursing Home called and Dad fell again.”
These things put me into a tailspin and I can’t seem to get away from my own thoughts. Every time I close my eyes, something creeps nearer.
*fellow Whovians will get the reference