"Now is the winter of our discontent...

...Made glorious summer..."

Really?  I'm waiting, Willie.

So far this summer I've been part of far more doctor's appointments, surgeries, tests, x-rays, and ongoing recoveries than I would normally choose. And before anyone points it out, I realize that the patient is much more involved than I, but honestly?  Sometimes I think I'd like to change places.

Back story:  This was supposed to be a summer of nothingness.  I had no beach house rented - the oil spill scared me from spending that kind of money for black tar tracking.  I planned to spend the summer in the yard, digging, moving plants, watering, weeding.  My idea of heaven on earth.

Plans changed.  My youngest, who was originally staying at school working, got a better job offer locally.  Added to the free room and board it was an offer he couldn't pass up.

I might have mentioned that his doppelganger is Pig Pen of Charlie Brown fame.  And no shower is complete without using every damned towel he can get his hands on.  And he eats like a mountain man.

My former husband had bypass surgery.  He is alone and there is nowhere else to recover but at my house.  A house I moved to after selling my HUGE house several years ago.  Present house?  Lilliputian in design.  You can cover it from one end to the other in fourteen steps, and yes, I know this from experience.

People who live alone do strange things.

A hoped for change in employment looks bleak.  New administrator + old relationship = massive fail.

Stress has made a deposit in my soul account and interest is compounding daily.

Whine over, August looms. 

I only wish I weren't already looking forward to it.