Privileged problems...

By 6 o'clock this morning, I was already in the shower soaping my hair, and ten minutes later I had a load of laundry started in the washing machine. By 7 o'clock, I realized that the anti-inflammatory pill I had taken instead of the usual one I was out of, was not working and I called the doctor's post at the hospital and asked them to fax a prescription for the usual ones to the nearest pharmacy to me that was open. They promised to do so and said I could pick the pills up in an hour. In the meantime, I walked Tyke in the early morning chill and wind, and had whatever vestiges of sleep there were left in me, blown out of my head. The day was starting out well anyway.

 

I got dressed very warm and hopped on my bike for the trip to the pharmacy where I also bought a box of paracetamol with scraped together coins that I found all over the place. I took an anti-inflammatory pill when I got home and settled down with a cup of coffee and waited for the pill to work while I watched some early morning television. Some time later, I stopped worrying about the pill working and I realized that it was and hung up the laundry and stripped the bed so I could put the next load in the machine. Tyke 'helped' me put clean sheets on the bed.

 

I also had to go to my GP for my flu shot and went there at the appointed hour and there was a steady stream of people going in and out and the two doctors stood at the ready with the flu shots. I bared my arm and the doctor jabbed it and out came a trickle of blood. "Oh," she said, "are you on blood thinners?" "No," I said, "I always bleed profusely." I told her that it was okay and that my blood had been checked and she frowned when she heard that, but the next victim was already standing behind me with a bare arm, so that was the end of that.

 

I had a day of household chores, interesting television programs, and an enormous afternoon nap. All were equally enjoyable and necessary and I found out about two older Dutch poets that I want to know more about. If only I was rich, I would buy every book I hear discussed on television on the weekends and I would soon need another bookcase. Not that it would be such a horrible thing and I already know where I would place it. Besides, isn't there always room for another bookcase? It's the books that are so costly and best gotten second hand if you can find them. Luckily, at Bol.com they sell second hand books and they have a good selection.

 

I think Tyke wants my attention and he can't come sit on my lap like Gandhi does. He is trying in all sorts of other ways to get it and I am going to have to spend some time with him. He is just like a little kid who needs his quality time with his 'mom.'