rambling rosemarie

Had a splendid day yesterday. Today? Not so much. I will be really glad to have the tests on the 30th and find out what is making me so dad-blasted miserable. EGD or esophagogastroduodenoscopy. (Thank you, Lord, for Dr. Google.) That's what I will be doing on the 30th. They are going to knock me out, put a tube down my throat and into my the first part of my GI tract. W00t! Don't be jealous now, it's a sin! Wait! So is sarcasm. Dang. Anyway, this will give the doctor a way to to see what is going on and hopefully diagnose me and give me the tools to manage the problem. Meanwhile I am learning some great lessons. I am learning to be patient. I am learning that I have limitations and am, after all, merely mortal. Each day I am grateful for the smallest of things. I can't control the seasons or change the number of days allotted to me by worrying. May sound like trivial stuff, but it's the glue of life well lived; gratitude and knowing your limitations. How

Today we are having a lovely garden variety thunder storm. No warnings for impending danger, just the occasional flash of light and grumble that follows. Grumbles that are audible but not deafening, as if the light is hurting the cosmos or keeping it from sleeping. It's lovely. I like the way it feels and smells. Outside my office from hell, (know from this point on as OFH) there are an array of oriental lilies blooming. The gray clouds and the glistening raindrops make them look fake. Sort of like wannabe bawdy hookers. You know, like Dolly Parton. Not quite respectable but not quite plastic. Their fragrance is lovely though and once the rain has passed I think they will look like proper ladies again. In other news, I plan to do some more work in the OFH. I am happy to report that 6 of eight of the packages I sent the other day have been accounted for and the two outstanding ones are set to be delivered on Monday. The two that were most important to me are accounted for and

Part of my problem with going through some paperwork in my office from hell is that my office has been the holding ground for boxes of pictures and papers that I acquired after my father's death. The sentimental torture is bad enough but my parents were both smokers, though my father quit in his later years. My aunt/step-mom was a bit agoraphobic and anxious. She was a heavy smoker all her life and did the majority of her smoking in a small, closed home. The boxes, photos and paperwork reek of stale cigarette smoke. It's particularly disgusting when you are a reformed smoker. The two forms of proof I have that I was once young and stupid are the years I spent smoking and the tattoos I sport. But enough about my foibles and follies, let's get to the business of this post. I found a card that was sent to my aunt/step-mother in 1959. It was not sent to her by my father. It is a sweet Christmas card that says on the front "for you, Honey at Christmas." I ope

....and dirty water came out. I was pretty heavily medicated yesterday and that made it more difficult for me to practice self-control. I have difficulty doing that on a good day, but with inhibitions removed I have found my calling; I am mean. One of my professors once said, "When you squeeze a sponge and dirty water comes out, it's not the pressure that made the water dirty, the dirt was there to begin with." It's really true. It isn't the (prescribed) controlled substances that make me cranky. I am pretty much cranky to begin with. As I sit here today I think I am experiencing a prescription drug hang-over. It's hard to tell, my brain is so fuzzy these days no matter what I am taking. I wish you could see my office. It truly looks like a madman decorated it using a fragmentation grenade and a dust buffalo scatter gun. I believe I took my life in my hands trying to get to the desk. Ever seen "Hoarders?" Consider my office looking like some

So it's been all over the news today. Delta Airlines charged some US soldiers $2800.00 in fees for their baggage. Google it. The news services and blogs are ablaze. According to Good Morning America, Delta Airlines issued a statement saying they were sorry about any miscommunication. I don't recall hearing that they were going to refund the soldiers their money, though. Don't worry, Delta, the tax payers don't mind paying to get our soldiers and their equipment home, at least this citizen doesn't. What I do mind is rewarding companies doing business like this by giving them my money. Pssst, Delta..... Southwest Airlines flies where I want to go. In fact, the last Southwest Airline flight I took the passengers waited to let the soldiers riding with us deplane first... and the captain of the flight shook their hands instead of shaking them down at the ticket counter. I do believe in capitalism. I also believe that greed is inevitable in any economic modality.

Peligro! Instrucciones importantes en seguridad!! I don't speak Spanish fluently. I know enough to get by. Today I opened a package that had directions on how to assemble a product. They were in Spanish. Peligro! Instrucciones importantes en seguridad!! I know that means Danger! Instructions important for safety! It's good to be able to recognize "danger" as one of the words in the instructions. It would, of course, be even more beneficial to understand what the danger is and how to avoid it. But nooooooooo~ I only speak enough Spanish to know that there is something potentially hazardous to me in the assembly of the product I purchased. What do you do at that point? Afraid to continue for fear of injury, too proud to concede I sat staring at the instrucciones as if the gift of tongues would suddenly descend upon me and yea, verily, the pamphlet I was holding would suddenly make sense to me. When knowledge came upon me I would dutifully arise and shout; "