I just know they were pointing and laughing
Just when I thought this day couldn't get more depressing (the boss is in the office today) I go out at lunch to get Esther's pill refill and on the way back sort of poke myself in the eye. It didn't hurt but it made my contact lense fall out somewhere in the car. I pulled over at the first available place, a convenience store, to search for it, and this partly involved looking down my own shirt and feeling around in my bra in front of a squatting cadre of laborers who were eating lunch. I looked everywhere in the car and couldn't find the lense, so I called Francisco and he brought me the right lense of my previous pair, because having only the left one in was making me feel sick and dizzy. I also feel like I want to weep, but I'm holding it in like the little soldier I am. This will be only the second lense I've lost in the 23 years I've been wearing them, which is not a bad track record, but I sure wish I hadn't lost it; it was comfortable and sort of expensive. I just called and ordered a new lense, and hopefully it will be in soon, because the old lenses are a little warped and don't fit very well anymore. Ouch.
I was looking at a copy of this book today and it is So. Good. If my great aunt Ruby were still alive, she'd be getting it for Christmas, because it is right up her alley. She was always so interested in other countries and how people lived, and to my knowledge she never travelled outside the U.S., but she was always reading a book about somewhere else. She travelled in her mind all the time, and I think that's partly what kept her mind sharp as a tack until she died at age 93. I miss her.
Our cats' vet is so nice. She's always available to answer questions and she doesn't bug us about Esther's weight like the last vet did. I know Esther is too fat, but there are reasons. 1) She's an indoor cat and doesn't get much exercise, partly because she has asthma. 2) She takes prednesone for the asthma, which is a steroid and made her gain weight. 3) She takes another medicine for the asthma, cyproheptadine, which has "increased hunger" listed as a side effect. These factors have combined to make Esther fat, and she's not, like, grossly fat--she can still clean her netheregions and all that--and she eats the lite food, so what more can I do? I made Esther walk on the treadmill once (while I straddled it and guided her so she wouldn't get hurt) and she didn't like it, so that's not an exercise option. I'm glad the other vet moved away, because Get Off Me, there's nothing I can do about Esther's chubbiness, and other than the asthma she's completely healthy. Man I love that cat. I love Lucy too, but Lucy's a loner, Dottie; a rebel. Lucy doesn't demonstratively love us like Esther does, unless you count her habit of sitting on the back of the futon, behind me, during dinner and biting me on the head. She does it almost every day and it Hurts, but I know she's doing it out of love so I try to bear it as best I can. She also gets on my pillow at night and kneads my hair. If there isn't enough hair laying across the pillow, she will claw at my head until she's moved enough hair onto the pillow to knead. Which also hurts. To sum up, Esther's love is cuddly and Lucy's love is painful. The End.
Williams Sonoma gave us a new breadmaker last Saturday and it's nicer than our old one, in that it's brushed stainless steel instead of white like the old one was. It makes bread exactly the same, though so far the only loaf we've made is one Francisco was experimenting with, to try and make it high in fiber and lower in carbs (he used whole wheat flour plus gluten). The flavor is good but the loaf itself was like a doorstop--more experimentation is needed. The lady at the store was apologetic that they didn't have it in white and assured us she could order a white one, and when we told her we didn't care she said that some people are very particular about the color of their appliances, and she seemed to find that a little silly. As do I. I guess if people spend tons of money on a fancy kitchen, they want their appliances to all carefully match everything, but our kitchen is more eclectic than that, which is how I like it. I don't want my house to be a showroom--I want to Live in it and be comfortable there. Welcome home, brushed stainless breadmaker! Welcome home.
Listen, I probably shouldn't bring it up, but my back is feeling a lot better and I think it's on the road to healing. Now that I've said that I will undoubtedly reinjure it in a tragic bending accident, but hopefully not because I'm really tired of it now.
In closing, this is where I want to live. I mean, come ON--can you imagine waking up and looking out at that gorgeous ocean every day? If I could earn money through writing or something, living there could be totally feasible, but I don't earn my money that way so I'll just have to win the lottery or be the beneficiary of a long lost rich relative. Come on, Universe! Make it happen! Help ME help YOU help ME.
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