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Tossed Salad Friday

~~ Yay, it’s April. To me, this day carries a lot more hope and inspiration than does January 1.

~~ My nominations for Best April Fool’s Day jokes all happened in March: Donald Trump, Susan Sarandon, and almost every GOP U.S. senator.

~~ The worst joke of all is losing Patty Duke.

~~ This week I locked into a battle of wills with my own immune system. It didn’t rally on my behalf as it should have, and as a result, the germs brought into my home took up residence in every one of my cells. I’ve been coughing, sneezing, aching, and dragging — it isn’t pretty and it certainly has not been productive.

~~ I knew I was really sick when I couldn’t find a book to read. They all seemed to have too many words.

~~ In my immune system’s defense, it’s been battered and pummeled mercilessly recently, so I can’t be all that surprised that it took a week off.

~~ Let’s see, since I last griped at you, what else is new? I know! There’s been an aide who left globs of split pea soup in my sink for unknown reasons and the one who yelled at me for not helping her though I had a contagious cold. I told her my spouse would be home in a few minutes, to which she sniped, “I want to be out of here by then!” despite it being 25 minutes before the scheduled end of her shift. Then there’s the one who arrived 110 minutes prior to her shift start and stared at me while I made breakfast. “May I get you anything?” I asked. “Oh, no,” she said. “I’m good.”

~~ You know how a watched pot is said to never boil?
Well, a washed smoothie maker takes a really long time to get clean if someone is watching you rinse it.

~~ Despite my whiny navel-gazing, I’ve been thinking a lot about the perspective of the elderly patient, drained of memories by dementia, who sees a new face caring for her every day. Who has no say in where she is, what she wears, or what she eats. I only pray that she isn’t too confused and isn’t scared by what’s happening to her mind and body.

~~ Then again, she is shielded from having to disinfect the backdoor key and doorknob after catching the aide using them while wearing the same feces-festooned gloves worn to change the diaper about to be tossed in the trash.

~~ Or hold a swaying ladder in 40+ mph winds so we could put back a part of the gutter that came loose before it tore off a section of the roof and/or broke windows. We were spectacularly unsuccessful — it did damage and may do more, but for once, the peril of the situation even worried my “No problem, I got this” spouse. He gave up and came down from the top of the tottering ladder and joined me back in the abyss.

~~ Which is just as well, because I was playing out the scenario in my mind where he flies off the ladder and I throw myself under him to cushion his landing. If one of us was going to get splattered, I’d be damned if it was going to be him taking the easy exit off this highway through hell.

~~ I really can’t wait for baseball’s regular season to commence Sunday night.
I need the pure joy that comes from millionaires playing a game in front of corporate moguls under the lights in frigid weather while continuously prying my eyes open to make it past the seventh inning. Woo-hoo!

Have a great weekend! If you’re not me, it’s practically guaranteed.
GO away already, NY KNICKS, GO!



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April 2019


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