Back in January, I was dreaming of warn white sand beaches, tropical sunshine and well, heaven. So I scheduled a week and a half off from work and booked a trip to Mexico. We'd gone last year, and was planning the return trip before we even left the country to come home. I was happy. I was excited. I had months to wait, but that was okay. It's alway good to have something on the horizon to look forward to.
In February, I made a trip to the eye doctor...one of those maintenance things required to keep me in good(?) running shape. I do this every two years. Surprise! I have cataracts. I have what? I'm too young for cataracts! Yes, I am told, this is unusual. If I had a dime for every time a doctor told me that...
Anyway, long story short...a few more trips, a lot of whining and complaining on my part, as this is all highly inconvenient, I am told I will need eye surgery. More whining, cue the violins. More doctor appointments, testing, prodding, poking, etc. Surgery gets scheduled, along with follow up visits, six appointments at four locations over the course of three weeks...nine days after I get home from Mexico. That means, count it up boys and girls, a trip out of the country and two surgeries (both eyes) in a month.
So now, my brain is swimming in self pity, tempered with utter exuberance...that makes me one slightly confused and highly over whelmed individual. I need to start making lists. Who am I kidding? I need to reorganize the multiple lists I've already started into some form of helpful stream of...what? Where am I?
Oh, who cares, I'll soon be drinking fruity drinks with the smell of sun tan oil, the sound of waves and cabana boys that want to get the senora a drink...no pity here.
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