Just when you think life is going to keep rolling along with no wrinkles, you wake up to another rainy day. No worries. Seasonal Affective Disorder is really just a myth, right? If I keep telling myself that, I might start to believe it.
Back to the story …
Driving to work yesterday—rain pouring down like it has absolutely nothing else better to do—my windshield wipers decided to take a rest. Yep, they got stuck. Wouldn’t move. Wouldn’t go swish-swish-swish. Just about when I started to panic (driving 60 miles an hour on a two lane road in pouring rain with no windshield wipers is enough to panic this girl), the rain eased off to a fine mist. I could see through that pretty easy so managed to get to work with no bumps, no dents, and no angry motorists along the way.
My boss is one of the most understanding people I know. When I told him I needed to leave as soon as the rain stopped so I could get my wipers fixed, he didn’t even blink, just said okay and be safe. He is a jewel.
Back to story, again …
So, I take care of some work that I really needed to do and head out to get the wipers to swipe.
It took an hour and a half for the service rep to tell me the wipers work fine. Nothing wrong. All is well, no charge. I thank him kindly, get in the car, start the ignition, and turn on the wipers—it had started to rain again.
What did the wipers do? Did they work? Nope, they got stuck at 2:00 o’clock.
I hadn’t even left the parking lot so drove right back into the service bay and showed them the wipers wouldn’t wipe. Two and a half hours later, I need a new wiper motor and they can have one in by Tuesday. It was Friday. So, three-plus days of no wipers, in rainy old winter.
I love being at home.
I hate being stuck at home.
Adding insult to injury (wiper motor = big bite into budget), I no longer have an excuse to not clean my house.
I started wearing reading glasses at nineteen. The kind old folks need to be able see menus, etc. I remember being a bit appalled at the time that I had eyes that were decades older than the rest of me.
No sooner did I catch up with my tired old eyes, than I needed cataract surgery — last week on my left eye and my right eye yesterday. What cataract surgery means, in case you’re not familiar with the process, is that my eyes received lens replacements. Now I can see better than I did when I was 18. Which means, ironically, that my eyes are now decades younger than the rest of me. Life is just weird sometimes.
Must be magic
What’s amazing to me is that medical science has come so far along in the last few decades that something like cataracts, which used to gradually make people blind, can now be removed along with the lens God gave us and an artificial lens, that is much like the contacts I’ve worn, can be implanted in its place and, voila, I can see 20/20 — like a kid again.
Now, if they could just magically whisk away my tired old muscles and saggy butt, I’d be all set. Only way I know of to fix that, however, is to walk, walk, and walk some more. So, back to the diet and exercise routine I gave up a decade ago.
Time to get this old girl in shape again.
No more excuses.
The rest of me needs to catch up with my eyeballs.
Credit where credit is due …
I have to admit that I was pretty nervous about having cataract surgery. My sweet sister Rosie, though, stuck with me through all of it and helped me keep it all in perspective (no pun intended). She has been my rock the last few weeks and I thank her more than she’ll ever know. (Even though she did make fun of me when I was high on oxygen and couldn’t stop giggling.)
The medical professionals who have guided me through this process have been wonderful. Their kindness and patience (even though I was late for two appointments) helped me cope with what was, for me, two very scary medical procedures. They are the best and I thank them for all they’ve done for me.
I’ve wasted a good part of the afternoon changing the look of my blog.
Can you tell a difference?
You probably don’t remember that it had a pale apple green border with a pic of roses from my garden at the top … yes, no?
You see, I’m torn. I like it okay … for today and maybe another day or two (my guess is that I’ll be right back to the same-old same-old soon enough). Aside from that, I can’t tell if it’s really fuzzy or that my eyes (cataract surgery is in May, yahoo!) are just seeing it fuzzy.
So, why did it take so long to get the new look together?
Once upon a time I was a graphics designer — way back when it was all cut and paste — so every now and then I can’t resist the urge to dabble a bit. I have all the mod cons for today’s world of graphics, including: a MAC, PhotoShop, InDesign, etc.
I am not, however, so hot at using them.
I get caught up in all kinds of quirks in the software and it takes me forever to get the job done. For example, this new image was a combination of Word, InDesign, and Photoshop.
Word? Long story. Forget I said that.
What matters is what you think of it.
Do you like the new look? Hate the new look? Don’t give a big rat’s …