Details

June 21st
Time to pay for the yard cart sticker. It's due by the end of the month. I waited until after June 20, since the 20th of each month is when the credit card cycle ends. Try to space out expenses.

On my laptop, I type in the online address that is printed on the paper renewal bill. The site comes up. "Under maintenance. Please check back later," or something like that, displays on the screen. So I call the phone number listed on the paper bill. I tap the prompts to get to phone payments. The automated line allows for certain payments, but yard cart stickers isn't one of them. It's after hours, so I'll have to wait until tomorrow.


June 22nd
Website is still under maintenance.

I call the phone number again and since it's operational hours, I can click a prompt to talk with a person. I tell the lady that the website is down and that the phone line doesn't have a prompt to pay for yard cart stickers. No news to her. She takes my payment via phone.

And then I call the surgeon's office to make a follow-up appointment for July or August, and I get a message that their phone systems are down. So I don't talk to anyone there. I'll try again Monday.

And then....

***

I don't feel like typing all these details.

So stop. They aren't important anyway.

What I really want to write about is what a rough day I've had. All the little details are part of the reason for a rough day. Details that, if I didn't have the health adversities I deal with, wouldn't be major stressors. They'd be irritants. But not tasks that require such exorbitant amounts of cognitive and physical energy.

I could simply type the Panera Bread scenario.
But what for? It's all too much.

***

So...
This morning...

After taking care of D, our canine friend who is staying in our home...

After deciding, No. I won't take my laptop to Panera. I'll take my journaling book and a couple books I'm reading through. The logistics of carrying my laptop bag and a book bag into Panera while having a trekking pole in each hand and then ordering and then setting up my laptop and using my iPhone to connect to the internet - that will take too much physical and cognitive energy. And I want to have energy to bike today...

After filling my water bottles and putting them in the soft black cooler with the shoulder strap and putting my books in a carry bag and filling the extra water pitcher, thinking that if I ride my bike I'll need the extra water...

After putting the straps on my shoulders - book bag, cooler, hip pack...

After putting some kibble in my hand to give to my canine friend as I leave...
.
After picking up the extra water pitcher by its plastic carry handle...

And after making sure the TV is turned on because D is blind and the sound helps him navigate the living room...

And after giving my friend his Carol's-leaving kibble treat by tapping my leg so he follows the sound to the dog bed and then tapping the bed as I lay down the kibble...

And after making my way to the stairs and then saying, "Bye, bye D. I'll be back in a few hours," ...

I slowly open the gate that blocks the stairs (since D is blind), close the gate, check my balance, hold the rail, and carefully maneuver down the stairs.
Then I'm through the den and the office and laundry room, out the door, and through the garage.
I close the garage door via the keypad on the outside of the garage,
hobble to the Explorer,
unlock the Explorer with the fob which hangs on a carabiner that hangs on my hip pack,
unload my load into the passenger's seat,
hobble around to the driver's side,
open the door,
start the engine and turn on the air conditioner because it's 90 degrees out,
carefully climb in making sure my foot is secure on the running board,
plug my bluetooth phone adapter into my lighter so I can connect to Pandora on my phone,
close the car door,
take down the sun shades,
click on Pandora from my phone and select the Way Over Yonder genre which begins to play through my car speakers,
rest for a moment,
prepare the details for my upcoming pet visit,
back down the driveway while deciding which route to take,
stop,
pull on my seatbelt,
wait for a car to pass,
back into the road,
and am on my way to another canine friend, S, to give her a lunchtime potty break.
All with deliberate, focused thought and careful, slow movements.

I drive the longer route which has less traffic, less taillights, is slower, and requires less thinking.
Pace yourself Carol. One thing at a time.

I don't feel like typing out the details for S's visit which I have to prepare before I arrive in her driveway. If I don't get into her home in a certain amount of time, she starts barking because she hears my vehicle in her driveway. And her barking can set off the house alarm. I know all that because it has happened before.

At S's home I start to feel weaker. Nothing I've not felt before.
And them my tummy does its bloating scenario. Again, not new but odd because all I'd had in the morning was my smoothie and 6 cashews.
What the hell? Why is this happening now? Maybe I've just overdone myself again. I've allowed my self to get too tired. Why do I keep working and pushing? I have disability now.
But you've already downsized again. You want to work.
But maybe I just can't do the day visits with other pets when we are keeping a dog in our home. Or at least make them even more minimal. I'm fucking exhausted. When will I ever learn?

After S does her business and after we sit outside for about 10 minutes, we go inside.
I rest on the couch. S drinks some water.
We go back out to see if S needs to relieve herself one more time before I leave.
We go back in.
I write a note for S's humans, and I send them a text. They like both a note and a text.
I put S in her crate along with a treat.
"Bye Miss S. I'll see you next time..."
I set the alarm, lock the locks, and get in my vehicle.

I'm feeling more exhausted. I have another stop around the corner to care for some feline friends. Their humans are out of town. I'll lay down there and rest.
Keep moving Carol. You can lay down soon.

As I am backing out of S's driveway, I hear a crunch.
Oh shit. I ran over one of those solar lights.

Earlier this week I noticed those solar lights and wondered if they were new. I had the thought then, I hope I don't run over those sometime when I'm backing up.

I get out of the Explorer to check the crunch. The light is on its side, the top of it dug into the red dirt and detached from its short pole. The globe is crushed. But the light is still on, so it's still working.
Damn.
Carol you have to clean it up.
Keep pushing.
Pace.

I retrieve a couple grocery bags out of my vehicle. I started keeping a grocery bag stock in my vehicle some seven years ago when I started my pet sitting business.

I use one bag as a mitten to pick up the broken globe pieces. I put all the pieces and parts in the other bag and then put that bag in the bag I used as a mitten. I also turned the light to "off," thinking, I better find where to turn it off. Don't want to start a fire. I doubt it'd start a fire, but with my luck? I slowly hobble to the carport and place the bag on the bench, hoping S doesn't hear me or sense me and start barking and set off the alarm.

I hobble back to the Explorer. I don't bother with my seat belt; I'm literally going around the corner to my next stop. I pop a pill for my tummy hoping it brings relief within an hour.

I'll spare the details at the two felines' home - mail, packages on the front porch, trash and recycling bins, plants, and stuff. There are a lot of details to pet sitting, especially when folks are out of town.

Once in the house, I say hello to the cats. One is deaf so I approach her cautiously to make sure she sees me so I don't startle her.

I have to lay down. I feel kinda faint. I feel weak and trembly and my palms and soles are tender. But I can't lay down, my tummy is too bad off.

So I use pillows to prop myself up on the bed. I stay there for an hour rubbing my bloated belly. One of the cats lays with me.

While I rest on the bed I text S's humans to let them know I crumpled one of the solar lights. They both respond with a laugh and that the lights don't cost much and they are so appreciative of all I do. No biggie. Good folks.

After an hour I feel some relief in my tummy and it has shrunk to a more reasonable size, but I'm still weak. It's normal, these bouts, even when I don't overdo. But I've again overdone between my injections. I upped my daily prednisone last week, which is also normal. But still, too much doing. I get my neck shots Tuesday.

I care for the cats' litter boxes and food and water. I tell them bye and lock up.

Next stop - the credit union and then Panera.

***

But now I don't feel like typing the Panera scenario, so maybe I'll write about that later.
And maybe not.

All that said, as I was climbing into my Explorer after my Panera visit, I told myself, Still, I'm lucky. I don't live in a cage, and I have my family.

I wasn't able to bike today.

***

A poem I wrote last week: It Again

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***

PS:
I don't believe this.
Well, actually I do.
Right after posting this blog piece, I sign into my FedEx account to update instructions for an upcoming delivery that FedEx emailed me about, and the site states: "Customize delivery options are unavailable at this time. Please try again later."
I have to laugh.