When it rains, it pours.
Not heavy rain, mind you, but a lot of everything at one time.
I may have told you how necessary it is for me to have two little sticky-back calendars to attach to my computer monitor. Yes, two. One for the current month, one for the coming month.
If I didn't need room for the pink stress pig from the Iowa State University Meat Laboratory, I might even stick three calendars up there for now, before and later.
The stress pig was part of a basket from Dennis Olson at our class reunion last year - a basket of all things ISU. Mary Voigt bought it, but I snitched the pig. OK, I begged for the pig, and she gave it to me, bless her pea-picking little heart.
But I'm getting off-story here.
Last week Martha McColley brought in three little calendars from Clean-All janitor services, which she owns with her husband, Jim. Wednesday when I came into work, there were two more little calendars on my desk, both of them Clean-All.
Seems my friend Marsha Hickey, who works at Wells Fargo, picked up two of these little calendars over there and brought them to me. She's heard me complain loudly when I didn't have them and must have wanted to forestall any more of that.
So now I have five calendars. I'm thinking of putting two on my computer here at work, one on my computer at home and one in my car, leaving one lying around waiting for a home. If I had long hair, I might consider sticking it on the back of my neck so I'd always have a calendar handy, but how handy could it be behind me? I'd have to find a mirror if I wanted to know what day it was. I can read backwards type, a trick I picked up working on the weekly paper my husband and I used to own in Colorado.
I know - I'm wandering. But my mind is fuzzy after fighting off a horrid cold for three days. Some say I haven't fought hard enough, and no one wants to be around when the coughing and hacking start, but I maintain I had to come back to work today, which is Wednesday to you as you read this.
And if you think it's fuzzy on the output, just think what it's like inside my head. That's not a good place to be right now. I spent three days wrapped in my Navajo God's Eye-pattern afghan with all the lights off, day and night. My husband is getting skilled nursing care at Friendship Haven after a hip replacement, so he wasn't home to worry about the lack of light, which he hates.
He also wasn't home to baby me, to tell me I'd be all right and to make me chicken noodle soup.
My neighbor offered to come over and help me clean up the house for his return, but the last thing I wanted to do was push dust around. I'd had to open my eyes for that. As it was, I watched only shows I'd seen before since I fell asleep two or three times in most of them.
I hate being sick.
When I get my new mini calendar stuck on my home computer, I'm going to scratch out all sick days.
So long friends, until the next time when we're together.
Contact Sandy Mickelsons at (515) 573-2141 or firstname.lastname@example.org