Sunday, September 27, 2020

2020 Planner

Probably the most worthless item I bought this year was my 2020 planner. I always take my time and buy the perfect planner for the new year. I want one with enough lines to book, double book, take notes, and triple book if necessary.

 Now, I mostly use a magnetic dry erase board on my refrigerator. There, unfinished  project s are written in color, boldly taunting me daily. Appointments and reminders are written and erased, sometimes simultaneously. Done—erase. Too late to do—erase. Should do, but don’t want to—erase. Who needs to be reminded of what should have been done yesterday, can’t be done today, and especially when tomorrow is too late?

 

The one thing I’ve learned from this year is less is more, and appointments or meetings are almost always suggestions, not “have to” events. My circle has tightened and my priorities have changed. It takes me longer to do tasks and my body limits me. My hands and knees are on strike about half the time, not always the same half. Two halves make a whole lot of aggravation.

 

The last week has been a chronicle of frustrations, failures, mistakes, and household disasters. The problem with spending 99.9% of my time in the house is that when something goes wrong, it’s much harder to ignore than when I spent most of my time going  hither and yonder.

 

The plumber is on speed dial for a slow wait. He’s been here so often lately that I think we should become Facebook friends.

 

My old-faithful Malibu decided to be cranky about starting and shooting out a wide variety of warning lights. Of course, when I took it to the shop everything checked out “no problem” until I got in the car to leave. The brightest part of my week was discovering that all I needed was a new battery.

 

I’ve learned the danger of setting a high power cleaner on a countertop. Who knew it would develop a slow leak and etch an oval into the Formica?

 

This afternoon, I’d decided enough was enough. I drove to the park, found a shady spot, rolled down the windows, and enjoyed the breeze blowing through my car. I shoved the seat back, reclined, and closed my eyes.

 

I was across from the shelter where Jim and I met with four people and a dog for our first Alzheimer’s walk. I thought of all the times I picked Jim up from the nursing home and took him to the park for a walk. Usually, it worked out well, but one time, I couldn’t get him back into the van. As I struggled to get him inside, one of the male nurses’ aides from the nursing home came to my rescue. He had been eating his lunch nearby and saw that I needed help. My memories were cut short by a buzzing sound.

 

I opened one eye, and made eye contact with the biggest bumblebee I had ever seen in my life. The stinger looked like a hypodermic needle, and I swear he had a murderous glimmer in his eyes. I held my breath and thought seriously of opening the door and making a run for it. Apparently, the bee didn’t find anything of interest and buzzed  out the passenger window.

 

Finally, something went right. Feeling spiritually refreshed, I started my car and took a newfound pleasure in how quickly the motor responded.  Maybe, just maybe, I’d go home and tackle a project on my to-do list. One step at a time. Baby steps, but steps, just the same.

 

Copyright © September 2020 by L.S. Fisher

http://earlyonset.blogspot.com

#ENDALZ

1 comment:

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