Multi-Tasking

 I like the preparation for a trip. I think it is the anticipation of the destination. Then the trip there is fun, like we are cocooned in our tiny home away from home. By the time we are ready to leave I am tired. The sink is full of dirty dishes, and the bed has been changed three times. The bathroom smells like a swamp from Dora's habitat, along with all the other bathroom smells. It will need to be steam cleaned!

My mind is busy organizing what I will need to do upon arrival home. That makes me tired before I even start. The driver is grumpy, and the dogs have lost the wonder of adventure. All I want to do is escape by sleeping in my newly secured recliner, but the driver and the dogs have other ideas.

Home, I am tired, but adhere to my rule of never making the trip into the house without taking along something that needs to go in. I fill my arms with stuff like our medication and a pillowcase full of laundry. With three leashes attached to my arm, I stumble along to the front door. What does the driver have in his arms? Just the keys to open the door. I look much like a pack mule as I follow along. He opines that we have all the time in the world to unload the RV. I have a feeling he would just as soon wait until a new trip is imminent before cleaning up the mess from the trip we just had.

This annoys me. Soon as we shower, he is ready to resume holding the recliner down to the floor, lest gravity fail. This annoys me. Already approaching the limit of annoyance before sharing said annoyance, he tells me that he had an appointment alert while we were at my son's house and he cancelled it and made a new appointment. 

I know this man better than he knows himself and I KNOW he did not make an appointment. I believe he cancelled one, but I KNOW he did not follow up. Now I am hell-bent on proving it! I ask which doctor he was supposed to see. I have most of the doctor's receptionist trained not to message or call him, but to notify me. He doesn't know who he was supposed to see, doesn't know when he made the new appointment. This annoys me.

Baby girl has already expressed herself to me, telling me her dad needs to die first, because there is no way she is equipped mentally to deal with his oblivion about his own care. This doesn't annoy me, since I know my son will step up. It just tells me that I am unfortunate in choosing a partner that is so needy! My own dad had my role in my mother's life until the day she died. They say you marry your father ..... I didn't do that!

This morning, I made his appointment with the dentist for his broken tooth. Easy peasy, I have the number in my contacts. However, I refuse to call all the offices that we routinely visit twice a year and ask if my husband cancelled a recent appointment. That would take my gardening time in the cool air of the morning, and I just refuse to enable him to continue to be so helpless.

All the receptionists know me, and I would get caught up in conversations. Let's see, there is our primary care, the cardiologist, the pulmonologist and the vascular surgeon. Four conversations as they check the schedules at 15 minutes each would take an hour or more. He can do it while holding down the chair. It is called multi-tasking.