Insane-A-Cat (aka, Maurice) woke Mr. Moon up a half hour before he had to get up at six and of course I woke up too but I don't get up to indulge her sudden needs to go outside but when she meowed outside the door five minutes before I had to get up, I just bowed down to the inevitable and got up.
Five minutes. Whatever.
It's still dark as pitch and birds are singing and it's really lovely and balmy outside. I have to leave in about an hour and I don't know whether I'm being a foolish ass for spending the time and money to go get this little place checked out or whether I've waited way too long and will be dying soon.
I'll let you know.
Some of you know that what Mr. Moon does for a living is to sell cars. He has an office in a bank and yet, he does not work for the bank and people call him and tell him what sort of vehicle they need and he finds it for them. He is good at this and entirely honest and won't buy a car for someone unless it is absolutely faultless. A few weeks ago a woman I know went to him about buying a car and he talked her out of it because the car she is driving now is a better car than the ones she was thinking of buying and etc.
So anyway, I haven't "picked out" a car in decades and I never know what I'm going to be driving and sure enough, yesterday, he texted to tell me that he'd sold "my" car and last night he brought me a different car and informed me that it, too, has probably been sold but that I can drive it for now.
He even put the CD I was listening to in the player and put it on the proper track, not to mention moving my junk over and also Gibson's car seat.
Can you imagine what a difficult time I sometimes have trying to find "my" car in a parking lot?
I'm not sure why I related this story but I think it's sort of funny. A few weeks ago, Owen looked at the car I was driving and asked, "Are you going to keep this car, Mer?"
Even he knows this is not quite the way it's usually done.
I wonder if I'll really go to the Waffle House. That, too, is a mystery I've yet to solve. I'll see how I feel when I leave the dermatologist's office- relieved and happy or needing to go and get my will updated, post haste.
Yes. I am a drama queen. Yes, I am nervous but not overly anxious. Still, I will have my emergency Ativan in my purse, just in case. I think I am getting to the age where I am going to start making one of my children go to the doctor with me, just as I went with them when they were young, just as I went with my mother in her last decade or so. I need a hand to hold even if I do not need someone to fill out the forms.
But I'm not quite there yet.
The sun is coming up, the sky is silvering. Mick is crowing out there in the hen house. So is Elvis. I can't believe Elvis hasn't torn the young rooster up yet, but he has not. He has, however, done his best to make him feel unwelcome around the flock. Such interesting creatures, these birds.
I better go get ready.
If I go to the Waffle House, I will take pictures.
I hope we all have a real good day and that tonight we will lay down again in peace.