This has been one of those crazy weeks where I wish I’d stayed in my nightgown, found a delivery service to drop off a batch of cream puffs and stayed home from Monday through Friday. Nothing bad happened that involved fire, floods, spilled blood, hospitals or funeral parlors so I should be happy. Right? Life is still good when none of those biggies are penciled in on the day planner. Repeat to myself: “A boring life isn’t such a bad thing.” So if I can’t call my week boring the next best word to describe it would be ‘annoying.’
While sitting trapped in the take-out window line, I was having a panic attack as I wondered what I’d do if a giant space craft hovered above my end of town and started sucking vehicles up like a huge magnet. How would I escape, trapped like I was? I could abandon the car but I can only walk so fast and I’d probably get trampled by the other panic-stricken people in line who’d also leave their vehicles. Finally, I remembered that I’m a news junkie and if a giant UFO had been coming towards earth all our spy satellites would have seen it approaching and by now Edward Snowden would have leaked that information to the press.
Tuesday I repeated Monday’s agenda minus the panic attack and plus a trip to the gadget zoo at the senior center where I petted and lusted after the iPads, smart phones and tablets. AGAIN. That's three months in a row. How tech savvy does one elderly woman need to be, for crying out loud? I’ve got a desk top and lap top computer that are both fairly new. I’ve got a Kindle, iPod and an old people’s cell phone. Do I really need more tech stuff? Is raw, unadulterated lust a good enough reason to buy more stuff to keep me tethered to the information mongers on earth? If I was my sister-in-law I’d say, “No, that would be cheating my kids out of their inheritance!” But I don’t have kids and my dog only needs so much kibble when I’m gone and he’s already got more toys than he needs. (I’ve been meaning to talk with him about donating some of them to the local humane society. But he’d just point out that I have ‘toys’ that could go to Goodwill so I keep putting that conversation off.)
Wednesday my house cleaning service failed to show up because the girl who was assigned to me got her schedule mixed up. Since I did something similar on Monday I could hardly get mad about the fact that I had to clean my own house this month. (I didn’t want the plumber---this coming Monday---to wade in my yucky-dos when he comes to install my new toilet, shower head and to fix a few leaky faucets.) The cleaning service would have rescheduled someone else to come on Thursday “if I felt comfortable leaving a key” since I couldn’t be home. But I gasped at that though! Leave a key for a total stranger who could steal my stash of Little Miss Debbie Chocolate Cakes, read the junk e-mails and let my dog out to play in traffic? No, way! No thank you! On the good side, cleaning my own house this month gives me an extra $50 that can go in Lust Fund.
Thursday I had to go back to the hearing center in the morning for part two of how to be an old lady with a new set of hearing aids. Then the afternoon was spent manning the front door at the museum where traffic was so low I had enough time to sweep the lobby, fold a box of handouts and read Crazy Cat Lady on my Kindle.
Friday was my Movie and Lunch Club day but they picked a movie I had zero interest in seeing so I opted out in protest for not picking Last Vegas. Not that anyone noticed my protest when I ever so politely emailed my I-can’t-make-it-this-month regrets. But at least Captain Phillips didn’t get my ticket money. (Oh, goodie, more money that can go in my Lust Fund!) Besides, I needed the full day to clean what my cleaning service could have done in two hours.
Today was the only day worth the time it took to shower and get dressed all week. I did the Christmas craft shows tour and lunch with the Red Hat Society ladies. I didn’t buy much but I like looking and it was a pleasant way to spend an overcast morning. Having done the craft show tour last year all by myself after a decade of doing them with my deceased spouse, I looked up what I wrote about the experience a year ago. What a contrast from then and now! No tears this year, no going home early and no ghost riding shotgun in my car. And this year came with an unspoken promise that friendships can grow---someday, if I live long enough, Downer Debbie is saying in my ear. Don’t be so negative, my Mary Poppins persona is saying in my other ear. Ohmygod, I used to have just one inner voice talking to me! Now I have two?
Back on topic: Life might not be a basket full of good tidings and joy here on Widowhood Lane yet but it could be far worse. After 42 years of being two peas in a pod, two nuts on a squirrel, the hole in your life doesn’t fill in with a couple of years under your belt. You go on. You reach for that happy place again. You might even find it from time to time but, damn it, it’s so boring without the other pea in my pod… ©