On a regular day I’m not a terribly organized person. My thoughts don’t coalesce; they flit and flutter like a pair of courting butterflies. Since election eve, though, I’ve been even more scatter-brained. My phone’s gone missing a record number of times. I’ve carried my shoes to the car thinking they were my purse, only noticing I was barefoot when I placed a foot on the brake pedal in order to start the car. I probably shouldn’t be allowed to get behind the wheel.
When Joe Biden was predicted to have won the election I thought maybe I could get my head back to it’s normal irregular operational status. I even managed to sleep seven undisturbed hours on Saturday night, Unfortunately Trump isn’t willing to concede, so I’m still frazzled.
My brain won’t settle down enough to allow me to write. I’m worried that Trump will somehow pull off the ultimate scam. He is, after all, a master scammer. Look how he’s conned millions of people into believing his lies. I don’t trust the process anymore after four years of gaslighting and projection and the undermining of our democratic process. So if tomorrow I accidentally put my phone in the oven and back my car into a wall you’ll know why.
People I know and love believe I’m suffering from hearing loss. Could it be because I frequently say, “Huh?” and “What?” Or could it be because I like my music on the loud side? Regardless, after getting their feedback for a couple of years I decided it was time for me to have my hearing tested by a professional.
My appointment was Thursday afternoon. Beforehand I wondered briefly if I should have studied for a hearing test. Perhaps I could turn the radio way down low and see what I was able to hear. Yes, I know this was an absurd idea, but I’ve always been an excellent test taker due to my diligent preparatory work. I worried that perhaps this was one I might fail simply because there was no way to practice for it.
Additionally, due to election jitters I hadn’t slept much in the past two nights. Would sleep deprivation affect the outcome? Would a healthy snore be misconstrued as a test answer? If I nodded off and the ear buds fell out would that constitute failure? Sigh.
I arrived nearly an hour ahead of schedule for my appointment. At least I could demonstrate my eagerness to excel. Perhaps garner some bonus points.
They took me right back and had me sit in a chair that reminded me vaguely of those chairs one sees in prison shows. Straight-backed, padded. I was hoping there wouldn’t be a leather mask involved.
I needn’t have worried. As I sat there an assistant asked me a series of questions. I knew the answer to each and every one of them. Winning!
Then I was taken into the testing room—basically a closet with a single chair (totally unlike the one in the previous room) and some technical equipment. Nothing sinister. A different assistant hooked me up with a microphone on my collar and placed earbuds in each ear. They were surprisingly comfortable. Why can’t all earbuds fit that well?
She then left the small room, closing me up inside, and asked me several more questions via the earbuds. We began the first test in which I was to repeat a series of simple words as I heard them. No problem. I could hear all but the very quietest ones. I suspected that only a dog could hear those.
Then came the “beep” test. I’m certain there’s a technical term for it, but for my purposes beep should suffice. The assistant played a series of beeps and all I had to do was say “yes” when I heard the beep. Easy, right? Except that I found myself straining to hear something, Anything. I started doubting what I’d heard or even wondering if my mind was conjuring sounds that weren’t there.
I began perspiring profusely. My pulse pounded in my temples. My breathing became shallow and labored. I honestly thought I might pass out. My immediate thought was “panic attack”! I tried to regulate my breathing while still listening for beeps. I was a mess by the time it ended, certain I’d failed miserably.
Visions of hearing aids danced in my head. I’m not opposed to hearing aids, but I really hoped I wouldn’t yet need them.
It seems, though, that I performed much better than I’d thought. In spite of my panic I managed to only show a slight hearing loss. When I finally saw the doctor back in the first room with the prison chair he just recommended that I check again in another couple of years.
How about that? Looks like I’m still a great test taker. And my family members just need to speak up. Bunch of mumblers.
My corkscrew wine opener suffered a debilitating injury on Tuesday night. In my attempt to fix it I might have gotten a little carried away and now it’s what my mom might have called “all cattywampus.”
I bought a new one on Wednesday.
Out with the old!
And it’s PREMIUM. I know because it says so right on the package. By golly, I’ve moved up in the world. Let’s hope my premium product lives up to the hype. I couldn’t handle another letdown.
I love it when someone reads a blog post that I’d completely forgotten about. The post shows up in my stats and I get to read it again and remember the day I wrote it.
Take That Emily recalls a time when I encountered a snake in our backyard. I was brave that day. I’m seldom brave, so it’s worth noting.
In the process of opening a bottle of red, one of the arms fell off. I found the pieces scattered about on the floor and managed to hammer the broken arm back into place. Apparently, though, my hammering was over zealous, and now the arms don’t move in the same way.
If I didn’t live in a rural neighborhood I’d climb into my car and go in search of a new opener. But it’s dark and my night vision isn’t great, so I’ll have to make do with one bottle of wine tonight. Surely that will be enough. Oh the humanity!
Nothing in my life has prepared me for today. I’m still in shock from 2016. Really. The most qualified candidate in history for the office of President of the United States won the popular vote by three million votes, but thanks to our archaic electoral college system, lost to a misogynistic reality tv star who subsequently became arguably the worst president in American history. Whew.
And now, here we are four years later with a well-qualified former vice-president running against the same asshat who stole the 2016 election. and dare I mention that the aforementioned asshat has a cult following that would literally support him even if he shot a person in broad daylight on 5th Avenue.
Crazy stuff.
Add in the weird QAnon conspiracy theorists who honestly believe that Trump is single-handedly saving the world from a nefarious child sex trafficking organization run by high profile democrats, and you have a real freak show. It’s exhausting.
So, even though I’m not prepared for today, I’m meeting it head on. With beer and wine and perhaps champagne if Joe Biden wins. I’m not making a prediction, but heaven help us if Trump gets four more years.
The sign I planted in support of Joe Biden lasted two whole nights at the entrance to our neighborhood before being removed by some angry old white man. Studly Doright and I actually drove into our housing development yesterday afternoon just in time to witness the old codger pluck the sign from the ground.
I was hopping mad and would have confronted him, but Studly reminded me that the guy was likely armed. He also had a rather large dog with him. I wish I’d had the presence of mind to take his picture, but he looked vaguely like an amalgamation of these four angry white dudes. The GOP seems to have more than its share.
Still, I’m celebrating that the sign lasted two full days. I’m surprised it made it through Halloween, but it did. And, I have a backup sign in the trunk of my car. I believe I’ll wait for Election Day to plant it.
If you need a great distraction from the worries of the modern world I suggest you watch “The Queen’s Gambit” on Netflix.
“The Queen’s Gambit” follows fictional chess prodigy, Elizabeth Harmon on her journey from a Kentucky orphanage to the world’s most exalted chess venues—all while addicted to various drugs.
I’m no chess player, heck, I barely know a pawn from a knight from a king, but I’m finding this limited series mesmerizing. Elizabeth, played by Anya Taylor-Joy, is a quirky, troubled young woman who plays chess intuitively. She gets her start in the game playing against the taciturn custodian at the orphanage, but soon she’s taking on entire chess teams in simultaneous play and winning local titles.
We’re not finished watching yet, so I don’t know how it ends, but the acting is spectacular and the sixties fashions are incredible.
I planted this sign at the entrance to our housing development last night, fully expecting it to be gone this morning.
Lo, and behold, it was still standing this morning. Now, let’s see if it survives Halloween.
Many Biden signs have graced the same spot only to be stolen or destroyed within a day or two. Residents of my neighborhood have taken turns replacing the signs as they’ve disappeared. It was my turn. And guess what? I have a backup in my trunk.
Praying for Eyebrowz 