“
A Sunday Mosaic: A Confusion Of Errant Thoughts, And Lost Desires “
07/29/12
To my very, very dearest friends, and ever-constant,
loyal readers,
‘
Present Tense ‘
Just before 5:00 a.m., I was dragged from a deep,
black, and dreamless fitful sleep (is this what death is like?), have to get
up, and run to the bathroom too late; with every stumbled step, I just peed
myself a little more, and guess I will have to start wearing Depends, again,
although the plastic makes me feel hot and uncomfortable.
Daisy—of course, much wiser than I—took advantage of
the situation by wanting ‘out’ probably eight times, until she was ready to
settle down on the carpet, and look at me.
Shoot, thought I, I might as well stay up, even
though I still feel tired, and putz-around, making coffee, getting my pills
ready for the week in my ‘seven-day’ pill box, and hoped to write a diary entry
for today.
Further, I am—again—waiting for the air-conditioning
repair person to come out to the house; for although my central A/C unit is probably
two years old, or slightly less, and is a ‘Rheem’ ( you might want to remember
that name, should ever you have to replace your existing unit ).
This past week, it gradually stopped delivering
wonderfully cool air into the house, until the temperature in the house got up
to 80 degrees ( I know, not much too many), but at that temperature, both dog
and I have trouble breathing, and…we both ROASTED, sweating, and miserable.
The visit, yesterday, cost $304.00 (which I do not
really have, and so slapped it on the charge card, oh boy).
Yesterday, the unit’s coils were frozen, and it
needed four pounds of Freon, to boot.
Now, dear friends, I could be mistaken, or misled, or both, but I would
have thought that an almost brand-new, out-of-the-box, 3-ton, A/C unit would
have cruised for maybe five to ten years before evidencing the slightest peep.
Of course, I cannot—now—find the paperwork, nor the
warranty, but I would guess—following the nature of ‘shit karma’, that it would
be just a shade past the warranty.
When I quizzled the repair person, he told me that
while ‘Rheem’ central A.C’s are assembled in the good, old U.S. of A., the
parts are made…guess where? Where very
nearly everything else we buy comes from: the ‘Land of the Lotus’, if I am not
mistaken.
Funny, but the unit this one replaced purred along
for almost fifteen years before the heating element crashed and burned.
And while I can understand, though dislike the
concept of ‘planned obsolescence’, this is almost like pre-planned, and
arranged obsolescence. Less than two
years of functioning, trouble-free life?
I find it shameful, wasteful, costly, and—in general—a huge pain in the
ass.
I am SO thankful, I happened to have an ancient,
small, ‘window-shaker’ of an air conditioner, propped up in the window in the ‘study’;
I had been retreating there just to cool off.
Plus, I had my cousin buy for me a cheap, box fan I can drag nearly
everywhere in the house, or, as I like to refer to it: ‘my, little, slice of
heaven.’
After the repairman leaves, and—hopefully—I am
once-again in full, surrounded by blissfully, cold air, I think I might just go
back to bed, to try to get more rest, of course, but, more, to try to make quiet,
and less-anxious, a fitful brain, that—like an overweight hummingbird—sees nectar
all around, just none nearby.
And until I am able to somehow ‘settle down’, my
mind will rush to a thousand places, both attracted to, and repelled by, any,
stray notion it might uncover.
I am hoping for a royally, quiet day, free from
turmoil, worry, suspense, pain (bet you thought I had forgotten about that!),
and general crumminess.
‘
Future Tense ‘
Even as the ‘future’ is unfolding, now, all around
us, in every cell, and every part of Man and Nature, still, I find that I avoid
it as much as is humanly possible.
Oh, keep a calendar of my future doctor’s
appointments, and further limn there, when my shower days are, and when my
cousin might be coming to visit. I write
down the dreaded day I have picked, during which to sit down, and spend the
morning paying, and paying, and, paying bills of all sorts; big ones, little
ones. All—frankly irritate me—especially
when my income is stretched to it last tensile erg, and beyond.
I no longer drive, nor do I have a car; so, I must
throw myself in full upon the kindness of the County Medicare Cab. They require that I make a reservation two
weeks before a doctor’s appointment.
However, that is about all they will do; should you—for example—come away
from a doctor’s office with scripts for medication, the County cab will not
stop, to allow you to have them filled, which I think is slightly stupid. Do they think that no one ever leaves without
scripts?
To counter that, I happened to find a local Pharmacy
who will not only come out to the house to pick up my scripts, but they will
also fill them, and deliver them to me, charging me only the standard co-pay
for the medications. Sometimes—though—they
get a little slow. I have been waiting
now four days to have a number of my medications delivered to the house. Oh
well, come Monday, and I’ll speak to the Pharmacist himself, rather than try to
deal with inconstant underlings. And,
quite a few of my medications cannot be just stopped at once, and then
re-started, without major upset, and/or the beginnings of a really nasty withdrawal. See what I mean about, ‘shit karma’.
Well…one does what one can. And then—projected out
into space, and into the future is a growing grocery list of more and more
things I am now running out of. And
since my rather pitiful SSDI check will not slide into home base until August 3rd, I am forced to watch and wait, and to—perforce—make
up wild concoctions that pass for lunch and supper. I CAN tell you that there’ll be a LOT of rice
cooked, with cans of soup poured over it.
Thanks to Medicaid, my $16.00 a month in Food Stamps hardly pays for the
plastic bags to bring the groceries home in.
Dee-ammn.
‘
This Just In ‘
While speaking with a dear friend, yesterday, we
BOTH decide that we want Olympic-style ‘gymnast’ bodies; ones that are in top
form, and at the top of their game. They
all seem so happy, goofy, and care-free, and why not? The world is their oyster; they exude charm,
and radiant health, and probably have never been in lasting, or debilitating
pain. Or stymied by panic, and anxiety,
or agoraphobia. AND have all their
teeth, no wrinkles or grey hair. This is probably the very best shape they will
ever be in. And I—for one—would like to
sign up; I’d be glad to step-out of this shell, and leave illnesses, and all
that willingly behind. I think what
affects me most is their singular joy to be alive.
‘Past,
Perfect Tense’
Often, my very dearest friends, I choose to not look
ahead—but rather, turn—to look behind me, into the Past, instead. And while so many images that lie there, lost
in errant memory are flawed, and skewed by time, my goodness!, they’re supposed
to be. All the better able to pick and
choose; to dawdle here or there. To
make-up one’s own reality. Its an escape
of course. But sometimes, wouldn’t we
all like to just escape?
Please tell me...if you were so inclined, and could
travel back in time to stay, and live, what would it be?
Moi-meme (myself), I think about 1910, now one
hundred, two years ago.
Think of it: many of the so-called ‘creature
conforts’ were available then.
Electricity. Electric light. Cars.
Telephones. Indoor plumbing. Even
air-conditioning, I believe.
Of course, medicine was primitive, and without the
plethora of medications we have today. There was aspirin, of course, discovered
in 1890, I believe.
I could get used to some Victorian folly of a
mansion, and could most easily be convinced to don a ‘morning suit’, with a
swallow-tail coat, double-breasted vest, with lapels, pencil-striped pants,
and, shoes with spats.
Well. So far, the A/C guy hasn’t shown, and I’m
actually a little sleepy. I think I’ll
just go to bed, and deal with all that squak later.
But, before I go, dear friends, I happened to run
across a 1918 recorded disk of the Sterling Trio, singing, ‘Everything Is
Peaches Down In Georgia. I really hope
that you may like it.
Forgive me, my dear friends, but—somehow—I
am very, very sleepy at present, and hope to take full advantage of it with a
hoped-for, soothing nap.
As always, I hope that you are ‘cool’
despite this awful heat, and comfortable.
I wish you a day of no, or of lessened pains, with friends and family
who love you, and care for you.
And,
please know I love you so very dearly!,
‘Zahc’/Charles
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