Oh me, oh my... having a colonoscopy is not that much fun - but that's not what I'm going to talk about, other than to tell you I'm alive and well and don't have to have another for five lovely, long years.
When I received my appointment several months ago, it was for 9 a.m., but the nurse said to come 1/2 hour earlier. As is my wont, I entered the time to be there as 8:30 in my calendar.
A few weeks later, as my appointment neared, something came up at work that my husband needed to go to, but it was for the same date as the appointment. He called, and I did not hesitate (not even a little bit) to postpone the appointment another six weeks.
My new appointment was actually at 8 a.m., arrival to be at 7:30 a.m. Somehow, I failed to note this down. I was still going by my OLD appointment time of 9 a.m. (8:30) - time is relative, right?
So, last night, he asked me what time we had to be there. I explained the whole
9 a.m. thing, and the half hour thing, and how I thought I'd put 8:30 in my calendar because I was accounting for the extra half hour, blah, blah, blah. He asked if I was sure. Well, yeah... I was. Pretty much.
This morning, he said, we need to leave by 7:30 to be there by 8, and I said "No, we need to leave by 8 to get there by 8:30." He said, "but you were unsure of the time last night." I said, "yeah, but I'm PRETTY sure." He said, "ok."
The upshot is that we actually left around 7:45, and I waltzed up to the receptionist at almost 8 and told her who I was and that I was probably pretty early.
She said, "No, you're actually pretty late."
I stared, all goggle-eyed, while she told me my appointment was at 8, and I should have been there at 7:30.
I immediately told her, "don't tell my husband!"
Ah me. Time-challenged is what I am, although I'm usually early for EVERYTHING.
Well, I'm tired of that subject.
Want to see my finished painting?
Here it is. I like it, although I wouldn't trust that roof for anything. I'm not sure where I went wrong on the perspective, but something has to change.
I might redo it. It was actually a lot of fun.
On another note, I was sad that Phoebe Snow died. She wasn't a favorite of mine, but I admired her. Here's part of a poem/song she wrote:
She was just the age I am now when she died, may she rest in peace.
When I received my appointment several months ago, it was for 9 a.m., but the nurse said to come 1/2 hour earlier. As is my wont, I entered the time to be there as 8:30 in my calendar.
A few weeks later, as my appointment neared, something came up at work that my husband needed to go to, but it was for the same date as the appointment. He called, and I did not hesitate (not even a little bit) to postpone the appointment another six weeks.
My new appointment was actually at 8 a.m., arrival to be at 7:30 a.m. Somehow, I failed to note this down. I was still going by my OLD appointment time of 9 a.m. (8:30) - time is relative, right?
So, last night, he asked me what time we had to be there. I explained the whole
9 a.m. thing, and the half hour thing, and how I thought I'd put 8:30 in my calendar because I was accounting for the extra half hour, blah, blah, blah. He asked if I was sure. Well, yeah... I was. Pretty much.
This morning, he said, we need to leave by 7:30 to be there by 8, and I said "No, we need to leave by 8 to get there by 8:30." He said, "but you were unsure of the time last night." I said, "yeah, but I'm PRETTY sure." He said, "ok."
The upshot is that we actually left around 7:45, and I waltzed up to the receptionist at almost 8 and told her who I was and that I was probably pretty early.
She said, "No, you're actually pretty late."
I stared, all goggle-eyed, while she told me my appointment was at 8, and I should have been there at 7:30.
I immediately told her, "don't tell my husband!"
(Now he's going to read this and make that ugly snort noise in his nose.)
Ah me. Time-challenged is what I am, although I'm usually early for EVERYTHING.
Well, I'm tired of that subject.
Want to see my finished painting?
Here it is. I like it, although I wouldn't trust that roof for anything. I'm not sure where I went wrong on the perspective, but something has to change.
I might redo it. It was actually a lot of fun.
On another note, I was sad that Phoebe Snow died. She wasn't a favorite of mine, but I admired her. Here's part of a poem/song she wrote:
"I'd like to be a willow, a lover,
a mountain
Or a soft refrain
But I'd hate to be a grownup
And have to try to bear
My life in pain."
~ Phoebe Snow
She was just the age I am now when she died, may she rest in peace.
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