Well, well my friends, again I take a day off work and AGAIN , it rains. Now it is a much needed rain, so I am not one to curse a blessing, but like, couldn’t it wait until say, Friday, when I am back safely tucked inside my office, with no hopes of frolicking in the late summer’s sunlight.
So, my plans awash with the overcast light, I had really scheduled the day off to commit myself to a consult with a hand surgeon on the cyst that has plagued my right ring finger-mid knuckle for about eight years. Eight years of wiggling the tiny pea like cyst back and forth, painlessly, fiddling with it as if I could magically hide it under the muscle and suddenly, very suddenly in fact, I started to feel sharp pains shooting up the nerve in the finger. Only when I wanted to grasp my hot coffee mug, book tucked under my arm, something or other in my left hand, to suddenly feel this sharp pain and loose the strength of my tight grasp, coffee cup now askew sending dollops of hot brew onto the floor, did this bother me, even slightly. A few weeks ago my knuckle swollen and red, my little cyst friend was really acting up, so much so that it kept me awake at night, pulsating. I scheduled this consult to see what he could do, knowing he would want to whack it off, but hoping he could recommend some nice cyst-be-gone cream to rub on it.
So, I’m driving up and down the side street off Broadway in a professional complex, searching for this surgeon’s office, nearly late. I found the office, barely being able to see through the rain soaked windshield, the drops started to pelt it faster and faster. I love me some time off.
The good dr. took a fascinating x-ray, determined that he would like to try to aspirate it, and froze my finger, poking around in it, trying to burst the cyst. It would not cooperate with this plan. I have to schedule another day off, to have it surgically removed, if I want to, but he recommends I do so while it’s still small. Trying to type to all of you has been a challenge, but one that is well worth it!
So, I’m out of said appointment at around 9:30 a.m. A long rain soaked afternoon stretching before me. I decided to pay Sears a visit, because my almost new front loading washer is malfunctioning; only using the very hottest of water in both the wash/rinse cycle of any cycle that you choose. This is wrecking havoc on my fine washables, deeply imbedding wrinkles into all of my slacks that will not be ironed out! I found the ladies at Sears so helpful, and scheduled a home visit for the washer repairman. With this task accomplished, I pondered my next move and fought but did not win over that loud inner voice “Back away from the sales rack lady”, I heard in a tone so unbecoming a true “lady” shopper.
“Back away and hand over your debit card”!
“Um, no”, I replied. And then I sashayed away with a smart pair of bronze shoes (reduced to 9.99), a nice new pair of black slacks and a blouse with satin, cut out flowers around the rounded neckline. Oooooh. And I bought another smart outfit at another store, and then at another store I bought a pair of my favorite pair of pants on SALE for $17, but when I went to pay for them, I got another 20% off just for stopping by on a rainy day. My day is shaping up! I bought a few items for Christmas gifts, as I am prone to do, to fend off the guilt only shopping carnage can bring, by stocking up on gifts for others, it works, don’t knock it, and then I headed for the car. Except I had to walk by the book store to do so, the very book store that I still have a gift card for (Thank you Adam, I LOVE it) and as one addict supported by an enabling son is prone to do, I bought more books. OK, my husband just said last night that I needed to donate some of the stacks of books that are piled in double rows in my bookshelf, but I didn’t want to tell him that those are the very stacks that I have not read yet. I’m waiting for a rainy day.
I bought only two books, one about a 40 year old woman who can’t have a child and her husband has an affair and gets his mistress pregnant, and the other a book about two sisters, who are conjoined twins! Drama!
I came home and tried on the clothes I just purchased. Perfect fit! I checked the tags, and damn, sure enough, they were made in CHINA! (read prior post! I told y'all so!) I tucked them away, carefully hidden in the closet (so as not to attract the attention of the clothes police, my husband, the sergeant of THAT police force) and in celebration heated up the left over carton of Chinese chicken fried rice and ate while reading the first two chapters of the book of sisters…this is really shaping up into a self indulged “me” day.
After I finished chapter three and a Hershey bar that I’d been saving for S’mores, but decided to forego the graham cracker and marshmallow accoutrements, I felt a teeny bit guilty again, so I washed the bathroom floors. I almost swayed too far left and cleaned out the medicine cabinet, a job that I have not attempted since we have moved into our home, a mere eight years ago. (awe come on, you go check the dates on your jar of Vicks, come on, I’ll wait, I bet there isn’t an expiration date ON it – we’re good here for another year or so) While waiting for the floor to dry, I decided to post this day’s journal of sorts, duties then all done, except for the nice dinner I’ll prepare, and then I’ll just read the rest of the day away. (And dream of my conjoined twin sister, no less) tah tah.