Hey, boys and girls … it’s a few minutes before 5 a.m. on Friday morning, Sam is in bed, and I thought it might be fun to launch a fresh Howdygram post at this screwy hour because I just ran out of ideas for greeting cards and there really isn’t anything else to do. I’d also like to throw in some free fonts.
I’m excited about tonight’s freebies, featuring wall-to-wall quirky display fonts (“Ms. Nicky,” “Melon Slices,” “Lovanica,” “Fresh Banana” and “Aperly”) and pleasant casusl scripts (“Introduck” and “Arimbi”). Are these cute, or
what?! Download links will appear after the graphic.
It’s 5:45 in the afternoon now, and I just had a weekly visit from Rachel, my hospice R.N. We’re not particularly fond of Rachel, because she’s lazy, disinterested, completely burned out, expresses no empathy and doesn’t seem to understand my overall health situation. Worse than that, whenever she’s here she never has the essential “tools” to collect my vital signs for a basic checkup … a blood pressure cuff, a thermometer, an oximeter, a stethoscope. On her last visit
— and today’s, too — Rachel had none of the above in her bag and asked if she could use
ours … but with one exception.
We don’t own a stethoscope! Unfortunately, I have congestive heart failure, so the hospice nursing team is expected to listen to my lungs as part of every routine checkup and note if they hear any
wheezing sounds. (Three weeks ago Rachel told us that she “lost” her stethoscope.* I guess she doesn’t think she needs another one.)
MISCELLANEOUS HOSPICE BULLSHIT. Sam and I have decided to fuck up Rachel’s life next time she’s here. We plan to hide our oximeter, blood pressure cuff and thermometer.
Woo-hoo!
I talked to my sister last night. We don’t connect very often, but whenever we do it feels like no time has elapsed at all … Robin and I always have a comfortable and intimate conversation.
I love you, Rob. We definitely need to do this more, okay?
Incidentally, I’m about nine years old in this picture, which was taken sometime in the middle of summer, 1961, and Robin is about seven. We were probably getting ready for an enjoyable outing with our next-door neighbors Sharon and Julie (and their parents), which would explain why we’re posing on their front doorstep. You see, Robin and I weren’t typically the kind of irritating children who would randomly insinuate ourselves in front of other people’s homes for no reason whatsoever. On this particular day we might have been heading out to Brookfield Zoo or maybe to a picnic at Harm’s Woods. This is so vivid I can almost hear a Good Humor truck in the background.
Oh boy! BANANA POPSICLES!
Robin and I look exceptionally starched and pressed, don’t we? Our mother took her job very seriously.
In my ongoing effort to win the battle against
DISGUSTING DIABETIC FEET, a couple of hours ago I ordered myself another new nuclear-powered lotion. The skin on my feet, ankles and shins is literally coming apart
— and flaking off — in large chunks. If my C.N.A. tries to remove the chunks manually, which she really, really wants to do, my skin would be raw, start bleeding and probably get miserably infected. So we need to try Eucerin instead, because the chunks are supposed to
fall off by themselves …
without help. Walgreen’s and CVS sell Eucerin in a 16.9-ounce pump bottle for about $12.50; I ordered mine from
Amazon for $8.97 with free Prime delivery, arriving tomorrow. Please stay tuned for a product review!
This morning I also placed an online pickup order from
Wal-Mart. I
love love LOVE buying groceries like this for all of the following reasons: 1) it’s free; 2) it’s fast; 3) you don’t have to run up and down the aisles looking for anything; 4) you can’t get lured into buying products you don’t want or need; 5) the website is organized like Wal-Mart’s supermarket aisles and sections; and 6) I can’t think of anything else.
It’s a few minutes after 7 a.m., and Sam will pick up our order about half an hour from now. It’s ready for him.
Thank you for reading this. If you want to remember the Alamo, please feel free to do so … frequently and as often as possible.
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