My Mom has a doctor's appointment and I am to pick her up in a couple hours to take her. She just called to let me know that she thought we should probably leave a little early today due to construction on the interstate which has diverted more local traffic to the back roads which is the route we usually take.
I said "OK". She then proceeded to let me know that one HAD to be at the doctor's office at least 10 minutes before your appointment. (Where did this logic come from? Certainly not my generation. We know that after you sign the appointment sheet and find a seat, you will not be called in for your appointment until you actually find something of interest in the magazine you picked up to look at while you were waiting. My experience is that this takes about 30 to 45 minutes, but whatever). So I said "OK" again.
Then Mom proceeded to explain to me the logic as to why she wanted to leave earlier, to just not take any chances with the traffic which might be a little bit heavier. And I said "OK" again. Then she repeated the bit about not wanting to be late. And I said, "OK, no problem."
"Anyway", she said, "I thought it'd be better if we left at least 10 minutes earlier than we had planned." I said "OK" again.
By now I have agreed to pick her up earlier about 5 times and I'm beginning to think, come on Mom, how many times do I have to let you know this is not a big deal. That's when I realized it was important that I let her ramble as much as she needed. You know, hopefully, some day I'll be 90 years old. I have a feeling that the attitude I assume with my Mom will be the example my daughter will assume when dealing with me in the future. I find my mother a bit humorous at times and am certainly not a bit remiss at poking gentle fun of her when I talk to my siblings or my daughter. The truth is, she is the most delightful, bright and beautiful 90 year old woman I have ever known.
I may choose to take a book today or I may decide to just spend the time with her sitting and waiting in the doctor's office. I definitely choose to enjoy this time and be conisderate of who she is. Someday someone else will have to take my poor old bones to the doctor's office and I hope they will enjoy the time they spend with me. I know this is a privilege. This is what I want my Mom to know about the way I feel when it is necessary to take her places. It is never an imposition. It is never something I wish I didn't have to do.
Time for lunch. I've got an important date this afternoon and I am going to leave just a little bit early for it.
Friday, June 24, 2005
Tuesday, June 14, 2005
Pimped Out?
I came into work yesterday to find my desk having a look of someone else having been there. Perhaps the biggest clue was that I kept getting "wrong password" message when I tried to log into my computer. When I finally got smart enough to look at the user name I noted that it wasn't automatically ME! What the heck. Since I'm a part timer (I work 15 hrs a week since retiring 18 months ago) I can hardly complain if someone chooses to use my desk some time.
Rick, the New Assessor since I stepped down and who I now come in and assist for those 15 hrs weekly, explained to me that the City Manager, Director of Planning and Community Development, the Superintendent of Public Works and he had spent Friday afternoon working on a project identifying all City property and when and how they were obtained by the City. Rick said the four had not been able to complete the project and would be returning to finish up. I could choose to go home and work later... or I could work from his desk while the 4 of them once again took over my office since all the files they needed were in drawers lined against the opposite wall where my desk sits .
So they arrived, quite apologetically, while I gathered up my stuff to retire to my old assessor's lair to work from what is now Rick's domain. Of course I did not go quietly. I had to razz them about it taking 4 of them to do what I normally do and amid chuckles undaunted by my raised eyebrows I entered the door into the innersanctum. This had been my domain and I thought just walking in and sitting down would be an easy transition. I WAS WRONG!
Rick has a pimped out desk chair. You don't know what a pimped out chair is? Well... in our small community when you see the driver of a car with his seat pushed all the way back and in a semi-reclining position... you say he is "pimping".... Now, I'm trying to figure out how to reach the keyboard when each time I sit down I feel like I am going to fall over backwards. How does anyone work in this position, anyway? I could take a nap in this position. I don't think I could ever work in it. I finally managed by dangling my feet just right (because they don't touch the floor) to manage not to feel like I am about to tip over. I grabbed the keyboard and pulled it over the edge of the desk as far as I could without just putting it in my lap, although I probably should have tried that. I tried to see the file I was working on... gave up and decided to record how much fun I am having.
Finally, I gave up. Slid the pimpchair away from the desk and grabbed one of the visitors chairs and slid it up to the computer. Unfortunately it is not on wheels... and it is the wrong height... and it is not adjustable... and it SUCKS!
This settles it. You can never go back in time. Not ever. Not and feel like you fit there. All of everything around me is in constant flux. Well, most everything... and me... at least I am still the adorable, bright, fun person I have always been.
Rick, the New Assessor since I stepped down and who I now come in and assist for those 15 hrs weekly, explained to me that the City Manager, Director of Planning and Community Development, the Superintendent of Public Works and he had spent Friday afternoon working on a project identifying all City property and when and how they were obtained by the City. Rick said the four had not been able to complete the project and would be returning to finish up. I could choose to go home and work later... or I could work from his desk while the 4 of them once again took over my office since all the files they needed were in drawers lined against the opposite wall where my desk sits .
So they arrived, quite apologetically, while I gathered up my stuff to retire to my old assessor's lair to work from what is now Rick's domain. Of course I did not go quietly. I had to razz them about it taking 4 of them to do what I normally do and amid chuckles undaunted by my raised eyebrows I entered the door into the innersanctum. This had been my domain and I thought just walking in and sitting down would be an easy transition. I WAS WRONG!
Rick has a pimped out desk chair. You don't know what a pimped out chair is? Well... in our small community when you see the driver of a car with his seat pushed all the way back and in a semi-reclining position... you say he is "pimping".... Now, I'm trying to figure out how to reach the keyboard when each time I sit down I feel like I am going to fall over backwards. How does anyone work in this position, anyway? I could take a nap in this position. I don't think I could ever work in it. I finally managed by dangling my feet just right (because they don't touch the floor) to manage not to feel like I am about to tip over. I grabbed the keyboard and pulled it over the edge of the desk as far as I could without just putting it in my lap, although I probably should have tried that. I tried to see the file I was working on... gave up and decided to record how much fun I am having.
Finally, I gave up. Slid the pimpchair away from the desk and grabbed one of the visitors chairs and slid it up to the computer. Unfortunately it is not on wheels... and it is the wrong height... and it is not adjustable... and it SUCKS!
This settles it. You can never go back in time. Not ever. Not and feel like you fit there. All of everything around me is in constant flux. Well, most everything... and me... at least I am still the adorable, bright, fun person I have always been.
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