BAD TIMING

I am a “reluctant ager” – at least that’s what I have concocted as part of my so-called identity. My identity as a putting on mileage,  advancing in years, flourishing and seasoned human. That’s me… and you!

Having written, often, about my distaste for my older-ness I have come to the realization that I needed to change my tune. And I was all set to change that tune to something more hunky-dory when I was confronted with a timekeeper.

It was during my annual appointment with my internist, now tagged Annual Wellness Visit (‘cause Medicare), that I was confronted with “the clock”. I am talking analogue, hands on a dial type deal.

After the normalcy of blood pressure, weight and height I was quite perplexed by some accusatory questioning. Questions like, my ability to remain standing, pull on, pull over, zip up, button up, without outside help (I don’t need no stinkin’ help, thank you very much).

Undeterred, I tried my best to dispute the findings on my lacking in some tallness AND negotiate my BP which was greater than necessary. No such luck. Harumph.

Having said that, I really should have been suspect when presented these three little words – taxi, blue, coffee – for later on retrieval. Oh no.

Taxi-blue-coffee-taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee…

But it didn’t end there.

Next, burdened with the requirement to draw a simple clock face, I was knocked sideways. I stared at the penciled circle placed before me and finally wrote 12 at the very top. After that…  I was dumbfounded.

What I am about to admit to you must be taken to the grave, never to be discussed with anybody else unless all the names in the story are changed. Meaning mine.

Because it is SO incredibly EMBARRASSING. And f*@king scary.

While my already greater than necessary BP continued on its way up-up-up, I wrote 15 at the halfway point between that 12 and at the bottom – where I placed a 30. Yes, I wrote 12 – 15 – 30! And as you may have already guessed, I made one more move clockwise… penciling in 45. 🙄

The old adage “time flies” has never been realer, cause it flew right out of my noggin.

Just so you know, I knew that was wrong – but can I get points for proving, at the very least, my awareness of 15-minute increments??

In the meantime my brain was still handling:

Taxi-blue-coffee-taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee- taxi-blue-coffee…

My kind doctor humored me by pointing out, “it’s okay, I mean how often do we actually look at clock faces with hands anymore? He-he-he, right?”  And then kindly offered a new circle with both a 12 at the top and a 3 where I had written 15. Oooooohhhhhhhhhhh.

12 – 3 – 6 – 9

To which I robustly volunteered, “taxi, blue, coffee.”

To which she replied, “let’s try that blood pressure one more time.”

To which I promptly hissed, “you are a monster.”

~images via Pinterest