I last posted over a week ago. No surprise. I've been on the hospital service for the last week and today is my last day; seven in a row. I'm more than ready to hand the baton to the next one in line. The week actually wasn't too bad but couple the generalized out-of-control feeling of being on call with a cold that just wouldn't quit and you've got a tired me. I'm so ready for 2 days off. Finally, a Monday to lie in bed and listen to the sound of city workers pick up my trash and yard waste bins and know that the day (for the most part) is mine.
I didn't make it to to see my Dad at all this week until yesterday and today.He was pleased to see me but, as usual there's little to say. We review things that we've reviewed dozens of times before and go over the plans for the coming weeks. This appointment, that visit or outing. He wants for nothing; I ask every time I see him, "Can I bring you anything.". What he needs/wants is a visit from me and yet....I leave feeling like I've done so little but maybe that's not actually so. He doesn't seem to mind that I don't stay long as long as I tell when I think I'll be back. "Tomorrow, Dad," I say.
The holidays are over, the new year well underway. Our Christmas tree is still up although we've not had the lights turned on in over a week. There are miscellaneous decorations from the holidays scattered about the house that need to be put away. The house looks cluttered with paper and dusty. Always more that could be done to make the place look better. I know what I'll be doing over the next few days.
I've nothing particularly enlightening to say. Reverb10 is over; no more prompts. I'll need to scour my mind for subjects. Sleep needs to knit up my raveled sleeve of care. Till later.