Swapping the vacation my partner and I had been looking forward to for Dad’s funeral ended up being a good thing. We were already off work, and since we were driving anyway and had a free place to stay at the beach, changing our plans at the last minute didn’t cost anything. Any other time would have caused problems and posed challenges. All this to say I’m not unhappy that we gave up a relaxing week at the beach. Things have a way of working out for the best.
Already exhausted from the previous weeks activities, I spent the weekend catching up on laundry, mowing, and other chores. My writers group met Saturday, and I managed to squeeze in a few hours of editing on Sunday to address the issues and concerns they raised about chapters nine through twelve of After Christmas Eve. I had to work through the revisions and write 2000 more words by Wednesday’s submission deadline.
Monday morning I had an appointment with my regular doctor at 8:45 for a check-up. There wasn’t as much traffic as I’d expected so I arrived at 8:30. No problem. I took a seat and picked up a magazine to read. At 9:15, I returned to the receptionist and pointed out that I’d been waiting for a full thirty minutes beyond the time of my appointment. She consulted her records and informed me that my appointment was at 9:15. My calendar said 8:45. That’s the time the recorded reminder call gave me, too. WTF?
They call me back and after getting my weight and blood pressure, put me in an exam room to wait for the doctor. Normally, I don’t mind waiting for my doctor because she always takes as much time as I need when it’s my turn. I know she does this with others, and that it causes her to run late. I’m cool with that. But don’t tell me to get here thirty minutes before my appointment–especially when I’ve been away from my office for more than a week and have a hectic week ahead of me.
I wait another thirty minutes before poking my head out into the empty hall. After looking both ways, I head to the right and run into my doctor, tapping away on a laptop in a small office. She assures me she’ll be right in, but it was fifteen minutes later. I got out just in time to make it back to the office for an all-day faculty meeting.
Tuesday I drove down to Tifton, did a one-hour training for about 60 educators, and drove back to Athens. Eight hours on the road pretty much shot the day. I tried to work on After Christmas Eve but didn’t get much done because I was just too tired to concentrate.
Yesterday I had my monthly eye appointment which meant I had to miss our departmental faculty retreat to develop a strategic plan. Damn. I hate when that happens. My retina scan was essentially unchanged from my last visit. Results seem to show up every-other-visit so I’m keeping my fingers crossed for a better scan next time. Normally I’m out of commission on eye injection day, but yesterday I was able to knock out the 2000 words I needed to have chapters 13-15 ready to submit for critique. I barely finished by the deadline.
I left the house at six o’clock this morning and drove down to Statesboro, just north of Savannah. I repeated my one-hour training for a group of 75 educators then jumped in my car and drove west for three hours to Perry, Georgia for a conference. There’s a reception in another half hour. We’re supposed to wrap up tomorrow by noon.
It’s been a crazy, crazy week. My food choices have been quite a lot less than optimal. I haven’t had time to run or get to the gym. Just as well–all our Zumba instructors are at a big convention in Orlando. That’s okay. I’ll get back on track over the weekend. The second this conference ends, I’m hopping in my PT Cruiser convertible and heading back to…
My Glass House