Blue-Footed Musings

Our back patio had always been cracked, most likely damaged by the roots of the tree that used to be next to it. We finally had some cement workers come out here to replace it. They stamped the new patio with a pattern similar to the pavers we used on the front walkway. But, at some point between the stamping and the drying of the cement, one or more critters left a bunch of weird marks in it. At least we assume that’s what happened, because what else could explain it?

The marks are annoying and amusing at the same time. When you pay a lot of money for a job to be done, you want it to be as close to perfect as possible. But, when you live in the woods you have to accept that there are critters everywhere and that they will make themselves known.

My #1 suspect is Chippy. Chippy is the name of every chipmunk, but in this case I’m referring specifically to the one I kept seeing on the old patio. Maybe he was living there, or maybe it was just a favored hangout. Either way, I can hardly blame the little guy for trying to return to it.

My shoulder seemed to get better for a while, but then it got worse. Lately I’ve been getting up early most mornings, because if I stay in bed too long I usually end up moving in some way that pisses my shoulder off, causing wave after wave of pain. I was in so much pain during my last physical therapy session that I asked if I could skip the exercises. My therapist told me that it was OK to skip the most uncomfortable ones but that I must not baby my shoulder too much. A lack of movement could lead to “frozen shoulder,” which is apparently even worse. Well, dammit.

I had two eye doctor appointments this week. One was with the optometrist. Soon I’ll have new glasses, which will be a relief. I also got fitted for contacts and am in the process of trying out three different brands. Usually I find contacts to be extremely uncomfortable, which is why I don’t wear them often, but the pair I’m trying out today feels pretty good.

The second visit was with another retina specialist. Aside from questioning the efficacy and safety of the medicine that I was prescribed, she agrees with my regular retina doctor’s diagnosis and approach. The layers of my retinas are “maximally separated,” which is really bad, but she doesn’t recommend surgery yet, because my eyesight is still good. If I notice a decrease in my vision, however, she says I should immediately consult with one of the two surgeons whose names she gave to me. My condition is so complicated that she wouldn’t trust the surgery to anyone but the best.

P.S. Both of the doctors told me that my vision is 20/20 (with corrective lenses). My husband doubts that my vision is quite that good, though. He thinks my mad puzzling skills are skewing the results. Do you think it’s possible to cheat the test by being really good at guessing the letters?

My dishwasher broke a couple of weeks ago. At first, I assumed it would be fixed within a few days, and I allowed the dishes to pile up on the counter, thinking it would be no big deal to manage them once the dishwasher was fixed. Big mistake. I’ve been hand-washing dishes every day now, but I can’t seem to catch up. There are dirty dishes everywhere. 🙁

One day, as I was sitting in the waiting room at the physical therapy place, I solved the Wordle on my phone. The answer was HOLLY. Just then, I was called in for my therapy. The therapist was one I hadn’t met before. She said, “Hi, I’m Holly.” I sort of blanked out for a moment, confused by the immediate repetition of the word. Was I misremembering the Wordle answer? Nope. I confirmed it when I got home. I’d literally met Holly seconds after solving the Wordle for HOLLY. Weird.

Recently I finished a task that I’d been putting off for months. As is typical for me, I kept putting the thing off, thinking I’d feel better up to it at a later point. Every day for weeks I’d say to myself, “I’ll do it tomorrow.” As more time went by, I changed my mantra to “I’ll get to it eventually.” And as often happens, the task became more daunting in my mind while also literally becoming harder to accomplish (in this case, because I’d lost my access to some key paperwork in the intervening time). Then a crisis point was reached, so I had to act, whether I felt up to it or not.

It doesn’t matter what the task was, which is why I haven’t spelled it out. What matters is that I’m old enough to know that procrastination is a dumb-ass way of handling things. Experience has taught me that nothing becomes easier by letting it sit. Though there are admittedly some things that become irrelevant if you let them sit long enough, they’re still things that ought to have been done, and there’s always something lost in the not-doing. Leaving a task to weigh on your mind also causes guilt and stress, neither of which is fun or conducive to good living.

Everything worked out fine this time, but what if it hadn’t? I’ve had several of these types of situations recently, things that ultimately turned out OK but that could have cost me (or someone close to me) because of my delay. I was stupid to allow that possibility. And I know that as I grow older, the perils of procrastination will only increase, and that to procrastinate over something it to risk never doing it. I must remember that time is not on my side and that procrastination is all risk and no reward.

We paid off our mortgage this month, and on Saturday we got the official notice from the bank. Woohoo!