Untitled

When I was replying to comments just now I thought about another talkative stranger that Mr. Moon and I encountered last week on my birthday. We'd popped into the Winn Dixie in Monticello for a few things and when we got to the cash register, the cashier was talking and talking and talking to the couple she was ringing up. They finally just walked away which did nothing to discourage the lady telling the story who, as I approached her with my groceries, simply continued the story right where she'd left off when the other folks scooted out of the store as if she knew for a fact that I'd been listening too and could definitely follow the plot. Of course I had been listening because she was loud and also, I am a complete and unabashed eavesdropper. She was talking about how she'd always thought that her father was the one to go to to ask permission to do things but then one day she'd asked her mother and her mother said, "Sure, why not?" and from then on, she always asked her mother. 
Mr. Moon just stepped away from the entire situation. He was not interested in participating in that scene at all. I tried to tie it all up in a tidy bow before I walked away with my lettuce and milk, but there was no way so I made a clumsy granny knot with the storyline and got out of there. I'm pretty sure there was more to that story and I suppose the people in line behind me got that part of it. 

God. What a day. 
I've known for 11 months when it was time for my annual physical which I made an appointment for when I had my last one and I thought that it was happening in August. Which starts today, of course. This in and of itself is stressful but also there had been some confusion about whether or not my doctor, my beloved doctor, was still going to be covered by my insurance because I had gotten a letter a few months back stating that he wasn't but that happened when my doctor changed his group affiliation and I had actually talked to a woman in his office who assured me that no, he would still be taking that insurance but if you're as crazy as me, you have to make sure about these things which is prudent, anyway, so last night I went to bed knowing that I had to find my appointment card AND call the insurance company to see if my doctor was on their approved list and all of this stressed me out so much that I lay in bed after my shower with my book, thinking that I should get up and go get an Ativan which I have a good amount of and take about once a month. One. One Ativan. But knowing that I have them is everything. I argued with myself for about an hour and I finally got so sleepy that the moment had passed and I went to sleep, sans medication. 
But that's how freaked I was. I was absolutely determined to get this done today and this morning I was a mess. I procrastinated as much as I could and then I bit the bullet and went through my wallet and finally found the card with my appointment time and date on it and by golly, it's not until the end of September! 
Huge relief. 
But I still had to call the insurance company and I did and I have to say that the people who answer phones there go beyond polite and well into being almost too nice and the almost-too-nice guy who helped me checked and yes, my doctor takes that insurance. 
I almost cried. And then, later, when I was telling my husband about this, I did cry and y'all- I am not making it up when I tell you that all things involving medical appointments from making them to going to them are just horrible for me. Beyond horrible. Terrifying. 

But I am so glad to know that I can keep going to Dr. Zorn because as I told the woman I talked to in his office, I am so old and he is so young and I want him to take care of me until I die. 
She laughed but it's the goddam truth. 

And after all of that (all of that! haha!) I was so wrung out and strung out that all I could manage to do was hang some laundry outside where it is not only too hot to breathe properly but now, to add to the hell party, the yellow flies are out and hungry for my ankle blood. Here is my yearly photo of a yellow fly that I got off the internet because I would never, ever stay still long enough with one on my own personal body to take a picture. 

As the University of Florida Entomology and Nematology web site says, "The yellow fly is a fierce biter." 

Or as I would say, "Those fucking cocksuckers drive me insane and I hate them with the passionate heat of a thousand fucking suns." 
And of course they only come out when you're already so hot you have sweat pouring off of you and you feel like the humidity is pushing you under a horrid wet wool blanket and you're thinking you can't take one more damn thing and then you realize that your ankles are stinging and itching and by the time you figure that out, the yellow flies have already filled their tanks with your blood and left you in return with a toxic poison that will cause swelling and intense itching for hours. Or days. 
This is not hyperbole. Ask any Floridian. 

I think I am more reactive to their bites than many people although I will admit that I am growing less so over the years. The swelling is not as bad but the itching is still as intense.

So, no. I was not going back outside except to get that laundry in and by god, I got bit again. 

Okay. Here's a funny thing. A month or so ago (could have been six months for all I know) my three sad, sad orchid plants got white fly or whatever that stuff was and I took them outside and sprayed them with Neem oil and set them on the deck under the overhang instead of bringing them back in where I measure out their water allowance with precision and speak tenderly to them and so forth. And guess what? When I finally went to check on them after being out there in way too much sun and living through great downpours of rain, they look better than they've ever looked before. 

I mean, they don't look great but the leaves are more plentiful, thicker, and greener than ever. They may die tomorrow but for right now, they tickle me.

So. Just heard that Trump was indicted on the January 6 charges. I have so much to say about this and also Jack Smith, the prosecutor, and how I know that this is not going to deter Trump's followers at all and that they will probably refill his coffers which are depleted from lawyer fees but it still feels like a small victory and when you add this to all the other indictments and legal troubles the man is going through, I honestly do not know how he's going to get out of this without being in prison. Which of course would not legally stop him from being president. 

Damn. 

And I thought I had a hard day. I do not feel the slightest bit sorry for him though. He has put this country through hell and I am not sure we will ever recover. 

That's all I have to say about that now. 

Love...Ms. Moon