Yesterday morning I did not indulge in my Grandma Power Shower and Out the Door in Single Digit Minutes routine. No, I allowed myself 20 whole minutes and then wound up waiting in the driveway for about three. Such is life.

I’m up early this morning because I woke up in a truly “awake” state and since it was not in the middle of the night, I decided to get some aspirin for aches and a Diet Sam’s for carbonation, which I am convinced is a necessary fuel for my life force.

Mother’s cat, Tiffy, and depending on whom you ask is now Alison’s or Summer’s annoying furball has a vet appointment this morning for a bad tooth that the doctor says is very painful. Mother, are you paying attention here? I am taking care of your cat. Why you became attached to cats in the last decade of your life, I don’t know, but you did and she’s here and I’m doing my best. That means I see that she has a caretaker and I don’t encourage her to live a life of adventure, starting with playing in traffic. On the whole, we keep our distance and avoid eye-contact. I call her “That cat.”

I expect something will happen to me today. The one time I decided to do something a non-Mother way, a walnut fell on my head. Well, it wasn’t just the one time I did something in a different way . . . no need to stir the pot, however.

UPDATE: Summer found out about the following plan and exclaimed, “Auuuggghh, you know I hate it when you do that.” Heh, heh, heh. Shall I go for seven minutes?

I am in need of a shower and clean clothes and I have to leave for Fort Wayne in an hour. What a bummer. Water, soap, towels, wet hair, going through the steps of getting dressed. Sigh. You know, today might be one of those days when it gets to about 15 minutes before we have to leave and everyone has to step aside for the blitzkrieg of “Grandma shower and getting ready”. I already know where my car keys are resting and I see my purse; I’ll bet I can wait until around eight minutes until departure time.

This morning could be the start of an active day, but I doubt it. I have sleepy eyes and I have been awake for at least three hours. I think sleepy eyes is an undocumented syndrome accompanied by overall lassitude.

This is a common theme for me but perhaps that is part of the syndrome. I may believe if I type the syndrome enough times it will become The Syndrome and edge close to official.

About a month ago something happened to someone else that was totally unexpected and it has left me off-balance. I wrote about it; it was Susie’s heart attack.Yes, I felt so bad for her and, yes, I experienced the feeling that it brushed so close to me, but I honestly cannot pinpoint a reason that it has left me with he continuing sensation of that moment after someone sneaks up on you and yells, “Boo!”

I’ve stood looking at cards, sat looking at a blank screen on my computer and felt unable to find a way of expressing my concern to her. I know the heart attack is not going to unhappen and I know it is she, not I, who has had to march on through this.

It may be that writing this has helped me stop behaving psychologically like the character in Gone With the Wind who repeatedly shouts, “Miss Scarlet, I ain’t never delivered no babies . . .”

We’ll see.

You can read about the Pet Relief Station here. You will find this description:

The 75-square-foot space includes fake grass and a hydrant, two deodorizers, a handwashing station and complimentary baggies. Maintenance workers clean the restroom twice a day.

You will not find a photo and I am going to scan social media for one. Oh my, here’s a snapshot:

Der Bingle sent me this picture while at the SD airport waiting for his flight to Chicago:

You know when you lack class when you take a sip of iced tea and it dribbles down your chin . . . and you grab your shirt to wipe it off. And not just the stretchy part at the neck of a crew T-shirt, but the bottom part. Not a little dainty dab, but a big swipe of sweaty cloth.

This observation would not be about moi, of course.

I don’t know if I am AmeliaJake or if I am someone posting as AmeliaJake. I’m serious. I didn’t make up AmeliaJake although I pulled the name out of parts of my mind; AmeliaJake was always there. I think she still is. Of course, she is, but I believe AJ has taken a look at my life at this time and said, “Hey, Jody, you got it.”

Well, that’s a Hell of a note. What am I going to do standing here with this bag of life by myself? I think I need to shake AmeliaJake up a bit and insist she get some backbone and hold up her side of the bag. Or perhaps AmeliaJake was shaking me up because she felt I had left her holding the bag?

And out of the blue, I wonder: Bag? Paper or plastic?

Yes, I am incorrigible, but it comes so naturally. And to keep the record straight, the bag would be a nice sturdy cloth one.

So I guess the pondering is over? Pretty short-lived, I’d say. Can a “ponder” be quick or does it imply a length of time and bewildered angst – whatever that is? So I probably never pondered or, more likely, I am in a stage of pondering, going back and forth with who is holding the bag. Well, let’s hope neither of us drops it.

I am talking to Der Bingle who is in San Diego; I am not. However, he spent the day in a vault, so I cannot be jealous. But last night he called from in front of what used to be The Green Flash and I was envious. I asked about the smell of the ocean and he told me it was a kelp breeze. He took pictures of my favorite beach places with his phone and now I am going to close my eyes and pretend I am there.

Ah, yes, this is nice. (I opened my eyes to type. Now back to the waves and the sand and the boardwalk.)

Thursday afternoon I received a reminder call about a dental cleaning appointment for Monday morning, and now we are here at Monday. My silent groan has been going on for about four days and I DON’T WANT TO GO.

It’s really nothing, but it’s a DENTIST appointment. I just want to get in and out. Yeah, I’m in that type of mood.

I thought I had something to say, but I guess I don’t. I’m going to have to think about this development.