While My Eyes Gently Weep

So the ante has been upped with my allergies. Not only do I sneeze,cough,have a voice that is several octives lower making it sound like I am changing sexes (now isn't that in interesting thought- I would be a very scary man) but my eyes are running, giving me the appearance of being a sad sad weepy woman. And, even though I have had PLENTY of reason to carry tears in my eyes, I am not the crying type.

My day yesterday was stressed. I tried with all my might to get the yearbook done and the final copy on three supervisor's desks. Computer freezes, constant program crashes, file problems etc. made it IMPOSSIBLE. I sat at my computer for 6 hours non-stop and finally had to give up and tell my two students who were feeling the stress with me that we did our best, and we will resume next week to finish it up.

Turn off computers and I zoomed to the foot doc who assured me I am healing fine and I only have to keep the bandage on another week. Anything after a tri-malleolar fracture is a piece of cake I keep telling myself. He is a very sweet, young, somewhat cute doctor with great bedside manner....so what the hell is he doing being a foot doctor? Why would ANYONE elect to be a foot doctor, or a proctologist for that matter? Just another mysetery of the universe. Perhaps I will make him a cool card and send it off to him thanking him for being a nice guy and fixing me. The proverbial mouse/lion/thorn story.

I had a 30 minute break and then zoomed to Woodstock to see Peg my therapist. Now Peg has been in the hospital the past four months - post op complication MISSED by the hospital, which almost killed her. I have been without a therapist during one of the toughest periods of my life. Only because I am so strong that I managed to survive it without doing anything drastic to myself or anyone else for that matter.

I walked out of there drained, my head spinning. Come home and blog? NAH. Go out and DRINK! Larry drove me down to the waterfront where I sat and had a few margaritas and some appetizers with a few friends from work. It was warm, we watched lightning flash a few miles away from us, and I held onto my drink, praying that it would not strike the deck, electricuting all of us as we sat in metal chairs with our elbows on metal tables. I prayed that I got to finish my margaritas before the universe might zap me with more energy than I have.

It worked out well, I went straight to bed where the A/C was on and all the windows closed and hoped that I would sleep without coughing and sneezing. I did wake up to my eyes shut with the crust of salty tears, but a warm washcloth set me straight.

Off to hunt drugs to help me, to the opening of the farmer's market where I PRAY that Lorna is there with her amazing potions and lotions that I just ran out of, and there is a party this afternoon...and if the pool is open, you know who will be throwing herself in.

later and here is to the weekend! Patti O Block

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