The days are full now. Always decisions to be made. My hairdresser has an auto immune disease and can no long work. It’s heart breaking. G bought a machine that cuts hair all really short. I let him do me in last time, and that’s the operant phrase. Now I am a shaggy dog in need of some form of attention.
Both vee-hickles need to be smogged, but G can’t drive stick shift Grumpy with one hand. More immediate is Moaning Myrtle the Toyota’s smog. G carefully plots her smog after two doctor’s appointments and between two meals.
Amy at the hospital calls with a list of G appointments to confirm. I carefully note each in the paper appointment book. Diligent be me. My nurse calls, and I have to tell her that she can come but there will be nowhere for her to park….they are slurrying the streets in our complex. She insists on coming, but I cannot imagine where she will park.
Today is the only day this week that we don’t have doctors or therapists appointments. Imagine the freedom.
- Himself: Shower. Space.
- Myself: Read, shower, type.
- Reading: More Johnson.
- Watching: KPBS: Two episodes of TBBS.
- Photo: Mine of Grumpy.
- Weather: Very thick, grey coastal clouds.
Gratitude’s: That I am here.