(Side note: Someone, someday, is going to read this blog and think I was terribly clever about my post titles. I’m not. I’m nicking them from my playlist. They’re not much more than a guide to what I like–which, as it happens, is damn near everything. Who else would spend most of her nightly call with her partner squealing over the coming orchestra season?)
I’ve finally got to the point of needing one of those weekly medication cases, and a double, at that, AM and PM. If I lay ’em out by the week, I know when I have to call for refills or prescriptions. I’m more likely to realise when I’ve missed a pill this way, and I forget the morning ones pretty often. Surprisingly, I have beat both of my parents to this point; my grandmother, however, has got a system of some kind going. Considering my aunt’s a geriatric nurse, Oma being in good hands is never a shock. 🙂
Speaking of my kin across the sea, we got a care package last night. My aunt keeps my behind swathed in the most comfortable (and, I suspect, expensive) underthings going. She’s even got the size right, much to said behind’s relief. Lord knows I have enough butt floss to last me at least the next decade; these have plenty of room in the boot, so to speak. I have four new everyday Sloggis and four pretties. Let me tell you, I squealed when I saw the Sloggi packet. If you’re ever in Germany, they make a box that’s four for 16 euros, two white, two black. Perfect. My mother had a new toothbrush and toothpaste in the same box, and I think both of us are grateful for the tin of Penaten-Creme. God, that’s my childhood coming back!
I have, at this point, two pairs of jeans that actually fit. Sky may insist it stays that way. He loves my slightly dressier moods. I spent the day in a midi-length pleated skirt not unlike this one that once belonged to Mum and a plain pale blue blouse. Comfy! All right, and I borrowed Mum’s big brown cardigan, the drapey one with the hood. Until my hair grows out past my shoulders and I can layer it, I expect I’ll look oddly vintage. I know, in theory, how to style my hair in little victory rolls, but I’m all thumbs when it comes to practice.
I am thinking I will spend some money on shoes this fall. I’m on the side of “broke” that makes it feasible to replace painful footwear with stylish, quality options. I wear the hell out of my shoes no matter how much they cost; maybe it’s time I wore hell out of shoes that would do my bones some good. It’s getting to be cane season, anyhow. I need to be kinder to my joints as the weather changes. I saw how happy Mum was with her new Clarks and I thought perhaps I owed the same treatment to myself. If I end up shopping in kids’, so be it, as long as I can walk in whatever I’ve bought. Functionality matters. I can dress up functional. Being functional in dressy gets me blisters and chafing that leaves marks for six months or longer. (Seriously, I’ve got a scar from dancing in those silver shoes in March.)
I also need an eye exam. I hope glasses like mine are still fashionable; I’ve got used to the look, and I do want some that are the same shape, as it makes for an easier adjustment. Mind you, I’m trying to get out of the habit of letting my eyes get very bad before I go for a new prescription, so that should also help with the adjustment. Oh, and if I can manage it, I want Transitions lenses. I hate having to swap to sunglasses when I want to spend time in the sun. (Hush, you. I might be vampire-white, but I do get some sun. I take walks!)
Enough blather. Sometime this evening, I want a hot bath, and Robbin just prompted me to play my round of Words with Friends already, so I’d best hop to.