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Tossed Salad Friday

~~ The period leading up to the present full moon was an especially frenzied one, it’s been said, and the lunar fullness released the chaos. Based on my experience this week, all that liberated anarchy skedaddled towards me as I’m up to my eye sockets in mayhem.

~~ I readied a half-dozen or so Dementia-ville incidents to relate, but I changed my muddled mind. Instead, I’ll try to describe the sounds of just one half-hour yesterday from the teeny village known far and wide as much for its din as its smell.


~~ It’s lunchtime, and once the dogs are fed, I open the refrigerator for me. Wait — did something inside the fridge just explode? Nope, it’s the very loud and seemingly excited hoot of the aide who’s been jabbering about something in a mix of English and Creole since I entered the kitchen. “NO WAY, NO WAY, NO WAY!” she screams before switching to words that are meaningless to me. “Whoop, whoop, whooppie, whoopsido,” she might be saying. (No offense intended.)

~~ The patient bangs on the table with her ring. Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom. The aide continues bleating. Now the patient swiftly slithers into full snake mode: Hiss, hiss, hisss, hissss, hisssss! The microwave’s buttons bloop, the power goes rrrrrrrrrrrr, and the patient catcalls her displeasure as the Creole chatter continues for 90 seconds. Beeeeeep, open, slam — the food is ready. The plate clanks, the fork clatters, the juice gurgles, there’s a bit more table thumping, and a lot more snake imitating. The phone call seems to end, at which point the aide urges the patient to “Eat, eat!” Arghlabhahatty is about as close as I can recreate the patient’s reply.

This “Eat, eat!” Arghlabhahatty // “Eat, eat!” Arghlabhahatty goes on and on and on while my formerly appealing salad with tofu and vegetables morphs into gravel with goddess dressing.

~~ Bleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeet! emerges a noise from one end or the other of one of the two inhabitants of Dementia-ville. It may have been muffled by clothes (and yet it penetrated a steel door), so I cannot exactly pinpoint the launch spot. Nevertheless, it was an ugly rippling that burst into the kitchen and lingered as my three canines cocked their heads as if bracing for a 4th of July fireworks freakout.

~~ The drumming, the hissing, and the bleating continued, though the tooting ceased. The patient was fed as expeditiously as possible, I guess, because I had barely scraped the rest of my unappetizing lunch into the garbage before the aide begins braying, “Whoop, whoop, whooppie, whoopsido” all over again.

~~ I’m typing now at my desk, eating a handful of peanuts. What a life.

~~ I’ve done enough navel-gazing and whining for one Friday. Happy February if you’re into interminable months and/or Arctic conditions. No matter what, here are some soapbox-substitution memes:




Dasvidaniya. Have a good weekend!
LET’S GO RANGERS!
GO, NY KNICKS, GO!

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