No More Appointments!

Dad often calls my mother the appointed one and the secretary, and she can live vicariously through your appointments as well.  I was very blissfully asleep this morning when my phone rang at seven a.m. “You have an optometrist appointment at 9:15 a.m.” my mother very blithely told me. “Mom?” I asked very kindly and politely. “No more appointments, okay? I am suffering from appointment fatigue.” “Your eyeballs are going to roll out of your head if you don’t get them checked regularly,” my mother said very defensibly. Mom called me back and said she changed the appointment until the end of November. I sighed with relief. “Are you still going to be able to take me to Books-A-Million in Auburn Monday?” she then asked me very worriedly. “I will pick you up Monday at 2 p.m. after your hair salon appointment,” I replied. A Chicken By Any Other Name… Dad just called this afternoon and he is picking up chicken salad sandwiches from a deli in West Point. Doesn’t that just sound delicious? “Give me about thirty minutes and I will be over with your supper,” my father told me. “Bring my Cokes and smokes as well,” I told my father. Helen’s husband is having some problems with his health and she called in sick.

Source: The 4th Avenue Blues - November 1, 2013 Category: Mental Illness Authors: Andrew Quixote Source Type: blogs