Went to the Eye Guy today. I have another shot next Friday. Friday the 13th. Whoo-hoo. Man, I hate those shots. Really do. After I pick it up at the "exotic pharmacy", I'll take a nice photo of the syringe on ice for y'all. It's so elegant, nestled in my fridge overnight next to the pears and carrots.
Drove home this afternoon in the pouring down rain with one eye dilated. I drove like an old lady in a big ol' Cadillac. Slow and bizarrely over-careful. I get a little freaked out driving in rain now. I'm a bit concerned about how I'll do once we get snow and ice. Then again, I may not have a car by then, bankruptcy and all. Then, it'll be me negotiating the slick hill from my building to the bus stop to get to the Metro. Yes, my life is all glamour, isn't it?
Angry Indian doctor upstairs is screaming at his girlfriend again, so I've abandoned the living room for the computer, a headset, iTunes, and a glass of chilled Yellow Tail shiraz-grenache. (Hooray for Australian wine!) I know, it's wrong to drink my red wine chilled, but it's the way I like it. I'm a total groundling, but it's making me happy tonight.
The neighbor's girlfriend locked herself out of the apartment, and he's pissed off that she didn't answer the phone when he called, and she didn't pick him up at the Metro. I guess a mile walk home in the rain turned him into the Hulk. "Don't get me angry. You wouldn't like me when I'm angry..." I'd run into the girlfriend in the laundry room earlier, and I offered to drive her to the Metro, but she turned me down. She looked nervous and skittish. Usually, she's just standoffish and rude. I guess I got to see the other side tonight. If he keeps yelling, I will call the police. My tolerance for verbal abuse is virtually nil, and Angry Doc may get a surprise tonight.
Lord, let me win the lottery. I will buy a house on some acreage, play my 80s music really loud, and never listen to domestic abuse ever again.
Suddenly, it's quiet again. Just me and my nice glass of wine, served in one of my parent's old blue pressed glass goblets. Mom and Dad used them for orange juice. I think they were some sort of premium from the local Jewel grocery store. This is the first time I've ever used one of them. Until tonight, I've just opened the cabinet, looked at the glasses and thought, "Those are Mom's." Not mine to use.
It's not like they're valuable. Seriously, I think they were something like $.89 a piece with a $10 grocery purchase. It's just that they remind me of a home that no longer exists.
Well, tonight, it's a wine glass, and it's mine, in my half-assed, thin-walled, rented crackerbox. And, ya know what? Chilled Aussie red wine is tasty. Even served in a half-assed, thin-walled, rented crackerbox.
Now, what red wine goes best with tuna on whole wheat? I'll have to ponder this...
God, Merujo, seriously, I think you've learned any lessons the universe is supposed to teach you! I teared up when I read about your parent's glasses because I am so heartsick about my mom dying and leaving enough money for my siblings to turn ugly. My sister and I tried to get her to spend it on herself but you know how those parents who lived through the Depression are. Anyway, send me a message via my gmail account and let me know your preferences in wine. I've got some that is just going begging and heaven knows you deserve whatever pleasure you can find these days!
Now, what does the doctor say about the effect of all these shots? Does it do any good?
And seriously, isn't anything covered by some kind of social security???
Post a Comment