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ar_wahanLast week was not much fun. As I told one of you in a comment, the Universe seemed to be hurling spit wads at me. In the larger scheme of things, I knew I really had nothing to complain about. Spit wads don't usually cause damage. But the irritating and exasperating barrage of spit wads pinging me in the back of the head was making me cranky and wearing me down.
In the last few days, however, the Universe has been directing butterflies across my line of sight instead. And one huge spit wad has morphed into several butterflies!
(taylortalk, you are very new to me. I don't usually write posts this long or detailed with mundane events ... at least, I don't think I do! This is not a typical post. Just tellin' ya...)
In the last few days, however, the Universe has been directing butterflies across my line of sight instead. And one huge spit wad has morphed into several butterflies!
(
taylortalk, you are very new to me. I don't usually write posts this long or detailed with mundane events ... at least, I don't think I do! This is not a typical post. Just tellin' ya...)Last Tuesday, I came home from a long meeting at church and spent some time on LJ. At 1 a.m., I crawled into bed beside my sleeping husband, and wondered, "Why does this this bed smell like cat food?" I shifted my weight, and immediately slid into the answer. Stella had barfed all along my part of the top sheet and my edge of the mattress! I managed to pull off the top sheet, and covered the barf on the bottom with towels. Ugh.
Spit wad: Wednesday (after washing the sheets and mattress pad), I was panicking over an assignment for my new client. A project had been delayed because I had pointed out a potential problem with the direction the nonprofit -- a college -- had wanted to take. (The client had agreed with me.) I'd proposed a different approach, which the client liked. I couldn't get started on the project until the college contact got back to her. So ... I was spinning my wheels. I did get another assignment done in the interim, but knew that the delay in the first one was going to cause problems in the schedule. And, I had a mammogram scheduled for that afternoon. Managed to get to it in time, and found that they were only going to to films of my left boob. "I think I'm supposed to have them BOTH done today," I said. Oh no, oh no, your chart says just the one. I argued some more, got the same response from a doctor.
Fortunately, the left boob looked fine (I'd had cancer in the right one last year). So, no spitwad there. But I left wondering if my memory of what my oncologist had said in June was faulty. It's been known to happen!
Spit wad: That night, I was taking out my contacts, and one flew out of my eye and vanished into the cosmos. I couldn't find it, my kid couldn't find it, my husband couldn't find it. I cried. Yes, I cried. I have glasses, but they date from the mid-1980s, are heavy, are an out-of-date prescription (I only use them as backup) and in this humidity and heat, slide down my nose and sometimes even fall off. Plus, their weight presses on sinuses already troubled by hay fever at this time of year.
Dueling Spit wads: On Thursday morning (both at 3 a.m. -- 'cuz I was desperate -- and during daylight), more searches by me of the bathroom failed to turn up my missing contact.
I also called my oncologist, and got a call back saying YES, I was supposed to get the right boob done, too! My memory wasn't playing tricks on me. Someone goofed up somewhere along the line.
So now I have to schedule a time to go BACK for the second mammogram, when my schedule is already horribly tight. I begin a long game of phone tag with the radiology department. Meanwhile, I need to get into town to get a hair cut, and meet my kid at her flute lesson at 5 p.m. to pay her tuition to the teacher. Gah!
At some point during the crazy day, I call my regular optometrist about replacing the lost lens. He can't even see me until Sept. 14; he needs to examine my eyes again, since my prescription has expired. Then he'll need to send away for the lenses. Gah again!
I go to get my hair cut, and my stylist, April (who wears contacts), suggests I drive about an hour to a distant shopping mall and go to Lenscrafters; being a local gal and in the know, she tells me my usual optometrist's office just lost a practitioner, which may explain the long wait for an appointment.
Butterfly: My hair has been "acting up" since January, possibly because of the tamoxifen (estrogen-blocker) I'm taking; it is as curly as ever on top, but goes draggingly limp at the sides of my face. Between the 1980s clunky glasses and the bad hair, I'm feeling quite ... unattractive. And I get to be the first person people see at church on Sunday, as I'm doing the welcome and announcements as president of the board of trustees. I really don't want to make a bad impression, because that's the day we get a lot of visitors who are "church shopping." I don't want my Medusa locks to drive them away!
April suggests a drastic hair remodel, shall we say -- very short in front. I take the plunge, even though every self-help book says not to make hasty decisions under stress. I like the result.
Butterfly: April and I have been blathering all during the remodel. I go to the counter to pay for my hair cut, and another customer approaches me. She asks me if I had ever known a woman named Mara T. ... I had! She said she'd been Mara's housemate in 1982, and *she'd recognized my voice from 25 years ago!* O.O She wants to know what Mara's up to now. I've been out of touch with Mara for many years myself, but think I can track her down. I take her former housemate's email address.
Butterfly: I meet up with Samurai at her flute lesson. She had just completed her first day of classes at the community college. (For those who are new here, she is a high school senior who was accepted into a program to spend her senior year at the college, taking more challenging courses to satisfy her graduation requirements AND earn some college credit.) She is absolutely thrilled to be there! Loves her classes, her teachers, her fellow students.
Caterpillar (not a spit wad, not quite a butterfly): Phone tag game ends at 6 p.m. I have an appointment for ANOTHER mammogram on Sept. 12. (There had been worry that it couldn't be worked in before I was scheduled to see the oncologist again.)
Butterfly: I email Mara T., and she emails back later that evening, all happy that we've reconnected! She's happy to be back in touch with her old roommate, too.
Butterfly: Friday morning, I call Lenscrafters. They can see me on Monday! Yay!!! In fact, they could even have seen me on Sunday, but I need to be a Presence at church, as you know. Still, Monday is nearly a week sooner than the Amherst guy could give me! I call the Amherst guy and apologize for canceling the appointment; I promise him I'll be back, I just couldn't wait that long.
I fuss over the college letter I'd been writing for the new client. On Thursday, I'd thought it was kind of dreadful. Friday morning, it doesn't look so bad. I launch it into cyberspace, aimed toward Brockton, MA.
Butterfly: After finally finishing the letter, I meet with Alison, my minister, to plan our Board Retreat for Sept. 15. It seemed a pretty daunting task at first, but we emerged feeling better about things.
Butterfly (Cho-cho?): Samurai needs to buy books for her classes. We go into Amherst to the book store that Amherst College uses, hoping to find her books there. No luck. But ... we stop for lunch at a new place right next to it. It is very Asian in its food selections, quite reasonable in price, and Samurai is in heaven. (Alison and I may go there tomorrow.) Plus, we have an hour of parking karma on the parking meter.
We rush home so I can interview a guy in Colorado by phone for another assignment from the new client, for a totally different nonprofit.
Butterfly: He is a totally lovely guy ... and probably a distant relative! [HEY: As I was writing this entry, I got an email from him thanking me for the information on my family line! :D )
By Saturday, I'm feeling less under attack by spit wads.
Butterfly: Rain is forecast -- after the second driest August here in recorded history.
Sunday Spit wad: I get up at 5 a.m. to grope my way to the bathroom in the dark. I still don't know how I did it, but I trip overt a box in the hallway (cardboard, with old file folders in it) and strike my head on a door frame. More painful, though, is whatever I did to my foot. I didn't break anything, though.
Butterfly: I don't mess up at church doing the welcome and announcements, and people compliment my drastic hair remodel. Also get some sympathy because I am limping... :P
I go home and deal with the stupid file folders, putting them away. 'Bout time. That box had been sitting there for a few days.
Today (Monday) the spit wad turns into a butterfly:
I drive to Lenscrafters, and a very nice female opthamologist does a full eye exam (for glaucoma, retinopathy, all that stuff, which I don't really need now, since I get that every year in March because of my diabetes. Whatever. She insists on doing it, and I pay for it. Good news is, she agrees with my regular opthamologist that I have no damage from diabetes.).
We talk about how I've been wearing gas permeable lenses for years. I need 1.25+ reading glasses, too, in certain conditions. I ask about bifocal contact lenses, and if they're available in gas permeable. I'd been told years ago that I was not a good candidate for soft lenses, because of an astigmatism. Well ... WELCOME TO THE 21st CENTURY,ar_wahan!
I walked out of there TODAY with soft lenses! The correction in my left eye is MUCH better. And, they are "progressive" lenses, meaning that they act like line-less bifocals. (You guys may all know this lingo already, but it was new to me.) Bottom line: I NO LONGER NEED READING GLASSES!
Butterfly: I also plunked down money today on regular glasses (also with the progressive lenses), so once I get them in a week or so, I will eventually be able to ditch my mid-1980s model. And... until Sept. 22, the lenses for glasses are 50% off!!
Butterfly: On my way out, I stopped at Penney's to look at, urm, ladies' delicate wear. Emerged from the fitting room with a 36 A (now you know) in one hand, and a 34 B to put back on the rack, and discovered a clerk MARKING DOWN that very model at that very moment. She grabbed the 36 A from me and label-gunned a "closeout" price on it, so I could get the discount today, even though officially, the sale doesn't start until later this week.
Butterfly: I got home and was able to read the instructions on how long to microwave my Smart Ones Mexican rice-and-beans lunch without needing to root around for my reading glasses!
So yeah ... I owe you one, April! And you too, Universe! It seems that losing that contact was actually a butterfly that was long overdue.
Spit wad: Wednesday (after washing the sheets and mattress pad), I was panicking over an assignment for my new client. A project had been delayed because I had pointed out a potential problem with the direction the nonprofit -- a college -- had wanted to take. (The client had agreed with me.) I'd proposed a different approach, which the client liked. I couldn't get started on the project until the college contact got back to her. So ... I was spinning my wheels. I did get another assignment done in the interim, but knew that the delay in the first one was going to cause problems in the schedule. And, I had a mammogram scheduled for that afternoon. Managed to get to it in time, and found that they were only going to to films of my left boob. "I think I'm supposed to have them BOTH done today," I said. Oh no, oh no, your chart says just the one. I argued some more, got the same response from a doctor.
Fortunately, the left boob looked fine (I'd had cancer in the right one last year). So, no spitwad there. But I left wondering if my memory of what my oncologist had said in June was faulty. It's been known to happen!
Spit wad: That night, I was taking out my contacts, and one flew out of my eye and vanished into the cosmos. I couldn't find it, my kid couldn't find it, my husband couldn't find it. I cried. Yes, I cried. I have glasses, but they date from the mid-1980s, are heavy, are an out-of-date prescription (I only use them as backup) and in this humidity and heat, slide down my nose and sometimes even fall off. Plus, their weight presses on sinuses already troubled by hay fever at this time of year.
Dueling Spit wads: On Thursday morning (both at 3 a.m. -- 'cuz I was desperate -- and during daylight), more searches by me of the bathroom failed to turn up my missing contact.
I also called my oncologist, and got a call back saying YES, I was supposed to get the right boob done, too! My memory wasn't playing tricks on me. Someone goofed up somewhere along the line.
So now I have to schedule a time to go BACK for the second mammogram, when my schedule is already horribly tight. I begin a long game of phone tag with the radiology department. Meanwhile, I need to get into town to get a hair cut, and meet my kid at her flute lesson at 5 p.m. to pay her tuition to the teacher. Gah!
At some point during the crazy day, I call my regular optometrist about replacing the lost lens. He can't even see me until Sept. 14; he needs to examine my eyes again, since my prescription has expired. Then he'll need to send away for the lenses. Gah again!
I go to get my hair cut, and my stylist, April (who wears contacts), suggests I drive about an hour to a distant shopping mall and go to Lenscrafters; being a local gal and in the know, she tells me my usual optometrist's office just lost a practitioner, which may explain the long wait for an appointment.
Butterfly: My hair has been "acting up" since January, possibly because of the tamoxifen (estrogen-blocker) I'm taking; it is as curly as ever on top, but goes draggingly limp at the sides of my face. Between the 1980s clunky glasses and the bad hair, I'm feeling quite ... unattractive. And I get to be the first person people see at church on Sunday, as I'm doing the welcome and announcements as president of the board of trustees. I really don't want to make a bad impression, because that's the day we get a lot of visitors who are "church shopping." I don't want my Medusa locks to drive them away!
April suggests a drastic hair remodel, shall we say -- very short in front. I take the plunge, even though every self-help book says not to make hasty decisions under stress. I like the result.
Butterfly: April and I have been blathering all during the remodel. I go to the counter to pay for my hair cut, and another customer approaches me. She asks me if I had ever known a woman named Mara T. ... I had! She said she'd been Mara's housemate in 1982, and *she'd recognized my voice from 25 years ago!* O.O She wants to know what Mara's up to now. I've been out of touch with Mara for many years myself, but think I can track her down. I take her former housemate's email address.
Butterfly: I meet up with Samurai at her flute lesson. She had just completed her first day of classes at the community college. (For those who are new here, she is a high school senior who was accepted into a program to spend her senior year at the college, taking more challenging courses to satisfy her graduation requirements AND earn some college credit.) She is absolutely thrilled to be there! Loves her classes, her teachers, her fellow students.
Caterpillar (not a spit wad, not quite a butterfly): Phone tag game ends at 6 p.m. I have an appointment for ANOTHER mammogram on Sept. 12. (There had been worry that it couldn't be worked in before I was scheduled to see the oncologist again.)
Butterfly: I email Mara T., and she emails back later that evening, all happy that we've reconnected! She's happy to be back in touch with her old roommate, too.
Butterfly: Friday morning, I call Lenscrafters. They can see me on Monday! Yay!!! In fact, they could even have seen me on Sunday, but I need to be a Presence at church, as you know. Still, Monday is nearly a week sooner than the Amherst guy could give me! I call the Amherst guy and apologize for canceling the appointment; I promise him I'll be back, I just couldn't wait that long.
I fuss over the college letter I'd been writing for the new client. On Thursday, I'd thought it was kind of dreadful. Friday morning, it doesn't look so bad. I launch it into cyberspace, aimed toward Brockton, MA.
Butterfly: After finally finishing the letter, I meet with Alison, my minister, to plan our Board Retreat for Sept. 15. It seemed a pretty daunting task at first, but we emerged feeling better about things.
Butterfly (Cho-cho?): Samurai needs to buy books for her classes. We go into Amherst to the book store that Amherst College uses, hoping to find her books there. No luck. But ... we stop for lunch at a new place right next to it. It is very Asian in its food selections, quite reasonable in price, and Samurai is in heaven. (Alison and I may go there tomorrow.) Plus, we have an hour of parking karma on the parking meter.
We rush home so I can interview a guy in Colorado by phone for another assignment from the new client, for a totally different nonprofit.
Butterfly: He is a totally lovely guy ... and probably a distant relative! [HEY: As I was writing this entry, I got an email from him thanking me for the information on my family line! :D )
By Saturday, I'm feeling less under attack by spit wads.
Butterfly: Rain is forecast -- after the second driest August here in recorded history.
Sunday Spit wad: I get up at 5 a.m. to grope my way to the bathroom in the dark. I still don't know how I did it, but I trip overt a box in the hallway (cardboard, with old file folders in it) and strike my head on a door frame. More painful, though, is whatever I did to my foot. I didn't break anything, though.
Butterfly: I don't mess up at church doing the welcome and announcements, and people compliment my drastic hair remodel. Also get some sympathy because I am limping... :P
I go home and deal with the stupid file folders, putting them away. 'Bout time. That box had been sitting there for a few days.
Today (Monday) the spit wad turns into a butterfly:
I drive to Lenscrafters, and a very nice female opthamologist does a full eye exam (for glaucoma, retinopathy, all that stuff, which I don't really need now, since I get that every year in March because of my diabetes. Whatever. She insists on doing it, and I pay for it. Good news is, she agrees with my regular opthamologist that I have no damage from diabetes.).
We talk about how I've been wearing gas permeable lenses for years. I need 1.25+ reading glasses, too, in certain conditions. I ask about bifocal contact lenses, and if they're available in gas permeable. I'd been told years ago that I was not a good candidate for soft lenses, because of an astigmatism. Well ... WELCOME TO THE 21st CENTURY,
ar_wahan! I walked out of there TODAY with soft lenses! The correction in my left eye is MUCH better. And, they are "progressive" lenses, meaning that they act like line-less bifocals. (You guys may all know this lingo already, but it was new to me.) Bottom line: I NO LONGER NEED READING GLASSES!
Butterfly: I also plunked down money today on regular glasses (also with the progressive lenses), so once I get them in a week or so, I will eventually be able to ditch my mid-1980s model. And... until Sept. 22, the lenses for glasses are 50% off!!
Butterfly: On my way out, I stopped at Penney's to look at, urm, ladies' delicate wear. Emerged from the fitting room with a 36 A (now you know) in one hand, and a 34 B to put back on the rack, and discovered a clerk MARKING DOWN that very model at that very moment. She grabbed the 36 A from me and label-gunned a "closeout" price on it, so I could get the discount today, even though officially, the sale doesn't start until later this week.
Butterfly: I got home and was able to read the instructions on how long to microwave my Smart Ones Mexican rice-and-beans lunch without needing to root around for my reading glasses!
So yeah ... I owe you one, April! And you too, Universe! It seems that losing that contact was actually a butterfly that was long overdue.
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no subject
Date: 2007-09-10 11:15 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-10 11:19 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-10 11:40 pm (UTC)I love those mexican rice and beans smart ones. And I'm really hungry already. Now I'll have to go get something to eat. :)
I'm glad things are working out. Do we get to see pics of the new 'do?
no subject
Date: 2007-09-10 11:47 pm (UTC)Ah, another microwave Smart Ones addict! :P
no subject
Date: 2007-09-10 11:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-10 11:52 pm (UTC)I was told that without the 50% discount today, the lenses for my GLASSES would have been about $400. (The frames were $159.) I was amazed to find that the contact lenses (a prescription that will give me 12 sets for 12 months) was significantly less than contacts.
Sheesh.
Grammar police
Date: 2007-09-10 11:56 pm (UTC)Should be:
I was amazed to find that the contact lenses (a prescription that will give me 12 sets for 12 months) WERE significantly less than contacts.
Yeah, I know, that didn't m,ake sense.
Date: 2007-09-11 12:10 am (UTC)I should have written that the contacts were significantly less than eye glasses.
When I got my first pair of contacts (hard) in 1966, the opposite was true. They were much, much more expensive than glasses then, and I am grateful my parents were willing to shell out the $$$, because it was a huge boost to my self-esteem.
Yes, that disclosure dates me. :P
no subject
Date: 2007-09-11 02:46 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-11 09:16 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-11 03:12 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-11 03:27 am (UTC)It's great to see how the spitwads turn to butterflies. I love that.
I want hairdo photos. SOON!
no subject
Date: 2007-09-11 03:28 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-11 01:18 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2007-09-11 06:18 pm (UTC)Yay for more butterflies!
no subject
Date: 2007-09-11 09:17 pm (UTC)