For some reason I was sick this weekend. I do not know why. I blame Sue.
(Now, see, if you're just tuning in, you must think I'm berserk. Sue is my Aunt Sue, who is a saint, and my Uncle Jim is forever blaming her for things that couldn't possibly be her fault. It's 50 below zero? "I blame Sue," my uncle will say. He can't find his wallet? And even though she is out of town being saintly somewhere? He'll blame her. Try it. Blaming Sue is a marvelous way to go about your life.)
(Have I mentioned the woman is a saint? Have I mentioned that before my uncle got sick, and he worked at the police station, sometimes people would ask how Sue was, and he'd always say, "We're separated." What he meant was, he was at work and she was at home. Have I mentioned my Aunt Sue has stayed married to him for THIRTY-FOUR YEARS like it's fun?)
So, THANKS, Sue, for my illness.
Friday was fun, though. My friend the other June had a birthday party at this pub called the Draught House, and I am sorry to tell you that I kept pronouncing it "Drawggit House" thinking I was hilarious. Anyway, I met many interesting people who were her friends, or at least they were drinking and eating on her fiance's tab, so I assume they knew her.
One woman volunteers for hospice and now I am interested in looking into it. Except, have you noticed I am on the high-strung side? Maybe I'd be a terrible hospice person. I don't know. If I try it and it goes wrong, we know who to blame.
Anyway, Saturday dawned bright and early, as opposed to it dawning at 6:00 in the afternoon, and I screamed off to an eye doctor's appointment. You will be shocked to hear that I continue to be blind. In fact, my astigmatism got worse this year. One could blame the 52 weeks a year of proofreading tiny type for this. But you know who is really at fault?
Sue.
I told Marvin that if the eye doctor didn't dilate me, that I was going to TJ Maxx for some pillows that HADN'T been chewed up by dog jowls. But I got to the doctor? And guess what she did?
Hi. I'm 72. Have you seen my bone-colored walking shoes with the velcro?
I seeeeeeee you! No, you, the one in Russia! HELLOOOOO!
When you are dilated, you cannot read emails, or blog, or read a book, or watch TV. So I talked on the phone to my father. I complained about Sue making sure my eyes got dilated. How long do you think it'll be before my Aunt Sue welcomes me back into her home?
FINALLY, after two or three hours of seeing the world through gauze, like how they used to show Cybill Shepherd in Moonlighting, I was able to make it to the Maxx. As I shopped, though? I started to feel a little dizzy. And a little sweaty. And perhaps migraine-y.
I went to Target as well, because it was important that I be in even bigger, hotter crowds, and by the time I left there I thought I was gonna barf. Which in case you didn't know is my worst feeling ever.
I came home and napped, but when I woke up I felt worse. And we were supposed to have people over for DINNER last night. Because we're cannibals. But I had to call and tell them we couldn't do it. I was too sick to eat them.
The rest of the day was spent either lying in bed or watching TV. I saw not one but two Jennifer Aniston movies that were flops, in which she plays someone who has no luck in love. Hunh.
Fortunately, I had plenty of company. And I just want you to know I am STILL wearing that shirt. I slept in it. And my hair looks even better than it does there.
So that about sums it up. I feel mostly better today, although still a little shaky. But I have enough strength to curse my Aunt Sue.
Oh, and finally. In closing. I gave us two new comments of the week, because I keep forgetting. And speaking of things I keep forgetting, Ask June who? What I have decided to do is throw in a waiting Ask June question in each post this week, because I have about 720 of them in the hopper. Exciting, isn't it?
If you hate that idea, don't blame me.
Blame Sue.
