The newest covid tests from Walmart are 1: pricey, and 2: weird. I've taken enough of the older version that I no longer need instructions. Unfortunately there are no longer any of the older versions that aren't too old. Expired. The new tests took several readings to go through so I could set up and know what should come next and how many times or for how long for each step. But my doc's staff had said to try again Thursday, and this was Thursday.
It was negative. I broke the little tail from the swab off (I did say weird, right?) and packed the test into my pocketbook, headed off to the imaging company for my x-ray... and got turned away again. It wasn't because I only had one negative test. I'd called in advance and asked if that was sufficient proof that I was over it. It was. But they looked up my orders and couldn't find any. Even before leaving the house I contacted the doc's staff and let them know. Before hanging up I was assured she was faxing it right over to them. I even dawdled a bit, popping in to the club first for ten minutes or so to say, "Hi," and twenty minutes later, as the "or so" stretched into, headed to imaging. None of that delaying did any good. The orders hadn't shown up yet. My gas tank was complaining, so I spent some time figuring out the new system our local grocery store has for getting a discount per gallon based on dollars spent in a month, before heading home.
It was still muggier than hell from two day's rain plus the occasional passing sprinkle yet today, all totaling up to about 4/5 inch in the rain gauge. So I came in and killed some time, going over the to-do-once-you-can-see-people-again list. I'd already dealt with the plumber the day before. Weed killer had been purchased, a grocery order delivered. There still were appointments to make and write on the calendar, including a call to jury duty early next month. I finally did the one call I've been putting off since getting home: contacting the sheriff's department to report the break in and thefts. That was before lunch, They said they would send out a deputy. It's beyond supper time now, not that I've eaten. I'm still waiting.
I could have let it slide longer, gone to the vet's office for a new certificate stating that the dog is still properly vaccinated for rabies to renew her license another year. I could have gone to visit my friend in hospice and brought her a couple of those wonderful, juicy Palisade peaches still left in the box in the fridge. I could have called another friend and made pool walking plans.
Maybe they think because I waited to call them until I was no longer contagious for sure that it wasn't important? Maybe there's a lot of REAL crime going on out there, however they define that? There have been a lot of golf cart thefts around here over the summer, and none of them are showing up for sale locally. I do try to avoid most of the local TV who-just-got-shot news, just fast forwarding through for the weather reports, so maybe the deputies are having a really bad day.
But still.
About two hours ago I had enough. I wasn't about to call them back and listen to their recordings for 13 minutes again just to hear a human voice and get an excuse. I'll do that tomorrow if needed. So I grabbed the hand pruners and took out my frustrations on the thorn tree in the back yard. I'd had it pruned up before leaving so I could walk up close to it without getting stabbed... 83 times from each side. Right now there are a lot of tender green thorns... OK, branches, lying all around under the tree to give the local rabbits a feast for a couple nights before I gather what's left, clip one last time into tiny compactable bits, and bag them to toss in the garbage. Double bag, likely. I do like our garbage crew and would hate to antagonize them. As I left I just made sure both Steve and I had our phones handy so he could call me if/when they showed. As if!
It's a lovely sunset, time to turn on the house lights, figure out supper, and watch some TV. Maybe that will bring them around, just in time to make supper cold. Ya think?
I'd also really just like to crawl into my comfy jammies and get out of these pinchy scratchy suitable-for-public clothes. Hey guys...? Are you coming? I'm not going to shoot somebody to get your undivided attention over here. It's only a fantasy at this point, seriously!
Oh wait! There's the knock on the door, the deputy uniform.... OK, nevermind all the complaints. Dusting powder for prints too? Cool!
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