January 1, 2013.
There’s something particularly cumbersome about the “thirteen” in that 2013. Or, maybe the word is clumsy. It’s not easily divisible or multiplied. Regardless, the year didn’t start out well. Or, perhaps, neatly or efficiently is a better way to put it. It was a day for pieces of lunch to jiggle loose and fall about lap and floor and burning cigarettes to go flying about. So far no real damage came to be. To help shed the possibility of sitting cooped up in the apartment all year, a trip to the outside world was undertaken. This was not to go somewhere. It was just to encourage leaving the place. The one person met was a nasty one.
January 3, 2013.
Yes, January 2 is missing. It went the same way scads of valuable time and cell phone dimes have gone in the past. It went for a chase after some “homemaker aide services.” There was none, although it was a good and proper Wednesday. Nor is there any indication of what might be in days ahead. Today had to be devoted to scooter re-charge. One reason the companies stay in business has to be that there’s such a demand that even with crappy service they can succeed. A route person today said two other people she visited were also left hanging. She, herself, may be looking soon enough.
January 4, 2013.
It’s a Friday and that’s end of a business week. At twenty minutes until five p.m. it seemed as if all things were in working order, an accomplishment if not a near miracle. The only thing that should have been the day’s concern was the food truck. Due to other stuff, the list for that was done about when the man usually arrived. There was no need to rush. He was an hour later than normal, which provided visions of a food problem. One need that surfaced was a medical visit. Although called in yesterday, no it was not set in the morning. It took two more calls to get that next week. Calling also went to homemaker services. Agitating.
January 5, 2013.
Eight fingers have cruddy bandages. A ninth one needs one. Almost all week there’s been a hope to change things. They can’t be done one at a time, as the point is to get a plastic glove over the whole hand, which gloves presently get snagged on the bandages. Well, the morning was a disaster that included both a fire alarm time and a time of excessive sleepiness, drippy nose sneezing and more. (The fire alarm was for elsewhere.) Although things weren’t okay, in the late afternoon, it was decided to do at least the worst hand. It’ s hard to see at the table after sunset. At this point, it may last overnight.
January 6, 2013.
The day of the kings and a big holiday in many places sits as nothing but a cold, cloudy day of the winter in Covington (at least in the apartment underfoot). Extra lights are burning. The place is full of trash since no homemaker aide was present on Wednesday; but, if it can be figured out, it’ll be bagged up maybe to be hauled out tomorrow. A friend that came around in the early afternoon went to get a couple of things from the grocery. The nurse practitioner is due in the morning, and surprisingly a topic for a Diary’s Blog message popped into mind this evening. Now it’s time to water the plants….
January 7, 2013.
The nurse practitioner was (unavoidably) two hours late but she did come by shortly before noon, and the nose didn’t stop dripping for about three hours throughout the morning. After a third of a box of tissues had been squandered, pieces were finally stuffed in the nose to hamper the activity. Of course, that made it difficult to breathe as usual (as normally done), but there are times when changes have to be made. The plants did get a watering, but the trash wasn’t done as of lunch time and was only partly done later. Even the meals delivery was a half hour late. However, in total everything wound up pretty good.
Some weeks don’t amount to much.