I Need A Time-Out
According to the Weather Bunny on the TV today is supposed to be a dry day. I’m glad because later I’ll have to drag the recycling bin down to the curb for pickup later today.
The city trucks will come for it and then dump it somewhere with all of the other trash. I don’ really believe that they do anything more with all of our empty Dr. Pepper cans and mail-order catalogs than they do with our uneaten leftovers and junk mail. It makes for nice PR, but I think it all ends up in a landfill somewhere – maybe in Illinois. We’re just a few miles from the state line and if they do it at night Illinois would never notice. They could use a lot of it to build levees along the rivers and erect a few more institutions of lower learning for training politicians.
Does that sound cynical? It does? OK, it was meant to.
Yes, today is supposed to be a pleasant and dry. A nice dry day so that I can drag the recycling bin to the curb with minimal trouble. If it is dry I won’t get soaked in the process. However, I’ll take the rain over snow anytime. In winter I don’t drag the bin so much as I give it a shove and then hold on for the ride down the driveway. The bins do have plastic wheels, but in winter they turn into skates and a member of the Ice Capades I am not.
Do I sound grumpy today? I guess I am, but at least I know why.
A short while ago I walked into the Chapel at St. Arbucks…and sitting where he was 24 hours ago was the fellow I wrote about the other day. There he was – waiting for me. He waved at me as I came through the door.
Y’know, I just didn’t feel like playing the part of the wall in his own twisted game of pill dropping handball. I knew that if I sat down in my usual spot I was going to have to nod and be gracious as he goes off on a drive through his own personal Oz. He ain’t the Wizard and I ain’t Dorothy.
On another day when I might be feeling more sociable and my feet didn’t hurt, I could sit down and dish out platitudes and other non-committal phrases such as, “Good luck with that,” “Time will tell,” “Don’t forget to take your meds.” But today isn’t one of those days. Perhaps a short prayer is in order.
Dear Lord, Please lift my spirits when I am faced with your other difficult creations. Help me to be patient and help him to take advantage of his caregiver’s assistance. Move things up a little for me and down a little for him in the way of side effects, Amen.
P.S. I’m serious. Amen again.
When I saw him this morning I took my coffee and plopped my backside into a chair on the far side of the Chapel. After about twenty minutes I sensed that I was being watched. I turned around and – you guessed it – he had also moved and was sitting right behind me. Spooky, no? I smiled, waved weakly, and turned back around. I was not going to be guilt-tripped into playing “Where’s Waldo With Reality.”
He just sat there quietly. I didn’t look around again. There was no need. I could feel his eyes boring two holes in my spine.
Another twenty minutes passed and he got up, walked past me and said, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” as he headed out the door.
Good. Great. Tomorrow might be a perfect day for me to go someplace else for my coffee. A break in the action might provide a refuge until my attitude improves and his someone tweaks his dosages.