Knock Knock! Who’s There? It’s Meee! Um…Is That Mace?

It appears our downstairs neighbor has moved out, or is in the process of doing so.  Night before last we found a plastic bag containing various books we’d loaned her hanging on our doorknob.  It was good of her to return them (although one might argue that the message conveyed had nothing to do with either honesty or courtesy) but this situation sucks and, quite honestly, I could do with having no neighbors ever again.  Well, except for our next-door neighbor Donna who is a sweet lady and apparently has no vices whatsoever except Christianity.  We’re going to petition her to look after the cats while we’re on vacation in Dallas.  But other than her, I would like it if we had an armed perimeter (armed with blueberry tart cannons; I’m not Satan so I don’t wish death or dismemberment on anyone, but blueberry stains are a bitch and so that would make anyone on a clothing budget think twice before knocking on my damn door).

I went in for a physical exam Friday afternoon.  The “exam” turned out to be a simple Q&A re: How’s Rob Feeling?, with nary a syringe or rubber glove in the room.  I described my various aches and pains (few and minor, all things considered), and voiced concerns about weight gain after quitting smoking (I am really frustrated and depressed about that and so my habits henceforth are going to be as Spartan as I can manage without wearing the brushy helmet).  My blood pressure was 130/82, which isn’t bad but annoyed me anyway.  With all that out of the way, now I can schedule a real draw-and-poke physical with a lab.  So is this how it’s done these days?  Was she simply screening me?  If I was in radiant health, would she have said “We don’ need no steenking pheesical”?  Or in the event of really poor health, “Look, there’s really no point here, I’m afraid.  Why don’t you just go home to your recliner, flip on the tube and relax with a tub of chips and let Nature take it’s course”?  I’m in the middle, so I get to starve for twelve hours and then have strangers stick me with stuff.  Really glad I only have to do this once a year.  Or so.

Of course she had to bring up the magic number 50 and the way adults these days celebrate it:  The First Colonoscopy.  She read the expression on my face and said it was okay, they knock you out for it.  I seem to recall Katie Couric getting this done on live television, yakking away as a tiny camera broadcast The Inner Katie to the masses.  Is my physician lying to me?  Or are news anchors really made of nerveless plastic as I’ve always suspected?  All of this I suppose is necessary due to fun family habits such as aneurisms and cancer, but that doesn’t make it any more comfy.  For anyone who demands a sphere of personal space be honored at all times (like me), a physical examination is highly uncomfortable.  I’d give it a skip if I didn’t know that my wife would warp space and breach the sound barrier to get me there.

Let’s me talk about something else.

I’m thinking.

This is harder than it looks.  I wish I was like some of the bloggers I regularly read.  Some never miss a week and the words just flow out of them like, uh, like flowing stuff.  Me, it’s like giving myself a haircut with pliers.

We actually had a thunderstorm that lasted more than thirty seconds last night.  Awesome.  I was outside for a few minutes of it, escorting an elderly drunken neighbor (another self-made victim; we tend to attract them somehow) across the parking lot to her apartment, then back to our own apartment because she left her purse there, and then back again to let her into her place.  Then back once more to our apartment where I decared to my wife that I would never again let another human being through the front door.  I sound so like a mean person, don’t I?  You can be honest.  This isn’t news to me.

I am actually looking forward to our trip to Dallas but my focus in thinking about it is just me sitting in my seat on the plane reading a book.  Just that.  I have no idea why, but reading during a flight is one of those special pleasures for me.  Since there are four of us going together, one of us will be seated behind the other three.  I volunteered to be the odd one out.  This probably won’t spare me unnecessary conversation but it might curtail it a bit.  The missus and I have agreed to share one suitcase to check, so we’ll only have to pay the robber barons of the airways $15.00.  Isabella always travels with a zoofull of stuffed animals and junk, plus the steamer trunk of snacks, and her mother will probably have to bring her own closet-load, so I forsee a cha-ching! rendered in basso profundo for her at check-in.  I’ll have to be alert in case she swoons and crumples to the floor so I can safely step back and out of the way.

My goodness but I have a bad attitude this morning.

I hear my neighbor downstairs, so I have to go eavesdrop.   See ya.

Last book read:  From A Buick 8, Stephen King  (It’s a keeper!)

Book currently reading:  Darkly Dreaming Dexter, Jeff Lindsay  (Great so far.)


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