Please everyone; take a deap (ha, ha, I like that spelling. I must have been thinking of Johnny Dep). Let’s start over; take a deep breath, relax and then exhale toward Wolcott New York because I am about to go insane. My worry stone has imprints in it from rubbing it so much, I’m out of Lorazipam and now have even MORE wrinkles on my forehead. Too much is happening too fast and of course with me there is always a wee little glitch in everything. Not too bad this time but always a wee glitch.
As I’ve told you, there are probably about 7 towns in this county but it is amazing how roads compare from location to location. I grew up here and lived here until around 21 and I would say that I knew where all the towns were and how to get to them and even what shortcuts. They were all two-lane highways, mostly countryside. All were pretty much straight and perpendicular to each other. So I moved to Los Angeles and refused to drive. I’m sure you have seen on television what the highways are like. Once you are in a lane, you stay in that lane and you move at about 75 miles per hour. Too bad if you get a flat tire. Actually, Los Angeles is a bit like Boston.
So I move to Maine and it takes a few years to not get lost all the time. You get used to the fact that the roads are arcs and circles going around rocks and trees and up and down hills and that everyone drives in the middle of the road because for some reason the roads are made with a hill in the middle (to have the water run off?) but people travel pretty much at a reasonable speed. Just watch out for turkeys and cows crossing the road.
Then I move back to the exact same place I started out from. Same roads. Same towns. Same countryside with straight and perpendicular roads only now everyone is is a BIG hurry. And, I keep getting lost! Trees are larger or missing completely. New houses have been built, old ones painted, curves straightened out. Point is you plan a time limit to get somewhere and are always late! I know where I am but I don’t know how to get there! You get halfway there and you wonder how the heck you got to that place and why you are going in that direction. So, guess who was late for jury duty (all though, just in time to have my name called to be interviewed). Then I ask to affirm rather than swear and they start asking all these questions that don’t make any sense. And, you have to tell all this personal information and everyone can hear it. Jeeze, even my Dentist was there! The limit was when the attorney stated “now remember, this trial is just for rape, not forcible rape. We are not judging if the rape was forced”. I wait for one of the pod people in the courtroom to say something. Not a thing! So I say “excuse me but how could you consider it rape if it wasn’t forced?” All hell breaks loose, everyone in the courtroom starts laughing and rolling on the floor. When things calm down the Judge tells me that I am not to ask the attorney questions, I am to ask the Judge questions. Anyway, I wasn’t chosen so that’s over with.
Then at 7:30 is the Town Supervisors Meeting. Another Lorazipam. Big mistake because it was a very, very long boring meeting mostly about hiring someone to cut the weeds in the bay this summer, buying a new truck and which account to take the money out for each. Finally, at the end it was the unanimous decision to hire me as the Town Historian. HOORAY!!!!! And, to make it even better, I’ll make $.69 per hour!!! I was elated but didn’t have a hard time going to sleep.
This morning first thing I had to go into the town hall with my social security card and my driver’s license. Driver’s license – no problem but the last time I saw my SS card was years ago when Paul’s bank that employed him was purchased by a company in India and there was a chance that he would have to go over there for a couple of weeks and I was darned if I wasn’t going over with him. So I got the SS cards, the Birth Certificates (which took a few weeks for me because I was born at a Military Base) and the questionnaires together, clipped them and put them on his desk for when he had a chance to go with me to get our pictures for our passports. Of course, Paul didn’t even remember India much less where the folder was. Now, his office and the upstairs bathroom which are his are not entered by me unless there is an emergency. He puts his dirty clothes in a basket by the door, I plug my nose, reach in to get them and quickly close the door and that’s it. So, no SS card. I took the piece of paper that your SS card is ripped from and my letter from the SS with what I will be getting which luckily had my number on it into the town hall and they took it. For now. And that doesn’t help with our birth certificates.
Then since my Mother had a stint inserted last week I went over to see her for a while and my whole day is shot.
I have homework to do on a web course that I am taking that is due soon.
Saturday my daughter is taking us to dinner for our anniversary and we are going shopping.
Sunday I’m going with a friend to see Hamlet.
Next Sunday is a Handling Seminar that is about 3 hours away.
Remember that this is an Agraphobic speaking that never leaves the house. SEND CALM PLEASE!!!