Emails

Do you keep emails? Not just on the server, but in your computer’s documents folder?

I used to and going through them is making for some funny reading… Take this one, from October 2003:

I just returned from the eye doctor’s office, where a “just come on back for a FIVE minute contact check” turned into an hour because … Well, I don’t know why. I was sitting in the waiting room and not privy to that kind of information.
I have been known to cancel appointments at the last minute; maybe having me read 3 year old magazines for an hour is their way to exact retribution.
I kept one ear cocked for the sound of whispered giggles across the counter. I would naturally take laughter to mean I was correct, they had a jihad going and wanted me to suffer for past indiscretions. No laughter; talk was mainly of the recent World Series win. That’s cool. It’s not like I want to be the center of attention. I think I convey that by sitting quietly in the corner, sighing heavily every 3 minutes or so and crossing and uncrossing my legs so fast I needn’t have used a razor this morning. I’m such a wallflower.

It’s not my hobby to make and then miss appointments. But, we all have a cross to bear and mine is a 1989 Chevy Blazer. We call her ‘Grams’.
Grams squeaks like a baboon on helium. She sports no air, no radio and now no headliner. Artie had to cut that out last night because there are holes in the roof and it leaked during our tropical rainfalls. Mildew ensued, naturally. And just as naturally I am seriously allergic to molds and mildews.
Sometimes the battery isn’t enough to start her and sometimes the brakes make me stop short. Sometimes they catch on fire. Just ask the local Fire Department.
Whatever the reason; and you can see they are many and varied, sometimes I just don’t get where I’m supposed to be going. Of course, I could get a real job and buy a real car, but where’s the adventure in that?

Back to the eye doctor.
I went next door to get my new glasses. I wear contacts but there’s invariably one day a week I abstain for reasons known only to other contact wearers: I’m lazy.
Since I’ve worn glasses for 30 years I have a realm of expectancy which did not include the new specs. Smaller than my previous rims, they make me feel as if I’m continually about to step off into an abyss. How did this happen? I stumbled around the eye place, evidently alarming the little man who sold these devil eyes to me, because he pulled back suddenly and nearly unseated himself. I didn’t even want him to wait on me. I wanted the nice girl who always remembers my name and chats about nothing in that cheery, knock you on your ass if you don’t get with the program way. Dammit. Now I can see, but it’s like a tunnel, and things are appearing closer down the tunnel than before. If I see a bright light, I’m freaking out, no problem.

I finally ditched the little guy [just give me a case and let me leave!] and wobbled out into the daylight; making a beeline for Grams. Yep, there she sits, seemingly larger than before. Even the holes in the roof look bigger.
It’s 10:30am here in sunny South Florida and the temp is already a balmy 85 degrees. I’m running half blind now with windows wide open – the back hatch, agap, is bouncing up and down in time with the baboon shrieks, but I don’t really notice any of this because I’m on the cell talking about my sudden tunnel vision.

It really doesn’t get any worse. Unless you count the broken down garbage truck parked in front of my house when I got back. And they didn’t even take the garbage when they left!
I need to go to the grocery store, but to be honest I don’t really want to stretch my luck.

Here’s where I tell you that Arthur didn’t have time to bondo the holes in the roof, and it does look like rain today…  So I took packaging tape and taped over those suckers.