Given my penchant for cutesy misnomers, synonyms and semantical deviance, I figured this post's title was relatively in keeping with my normal routine.
This week, however, was my the culmination of another four years between visits to the eye doctor.
The last time I'd hit the eye doctor was March '02; I was about to undergo major surgery and needed to get my prescription (and my glasses) updated, so I did. I'm lucky; my prescription barely changed since the last time I'd seen my guy, so I needed to get new lenses only because I'd run out; otherwise, I could have just kept on going with the same prescription. However, given the allergy season approaching that seems to have everyone rubbing their eyes, sneezing and coughing up a rainbow of fruit flavors, I opted to see my guy now before the aforementioned symptoms affect me in a significant way.
Normally, I don't include minutae -- that is, boring, insignificant reportage of my daily activities and errands -- herein. However, the reason why I did so is not to see which of my readers wants to donate a new pair of Oakley prescription frames to me (feel free to do so, of course). No, the reason why I mentioned my jaunt to the eye doctor was because this particular work week is messier than usual -- we've got a few different deadlines, the ticking clock is particularly loud because my sister is heading out to help my mother relocate my grandmother (right around Mother's Day -- ooh, the irony) and everything on my personal end, workwise, is culminating over the next thirty-six hours. And, of course, to top it off, my regular doctor scheduled an appointment with me this week so between the eye doctor and the work stuff, I got the unpleasant task of seeing my regular doctor -- I don't mind seeing the doctor, but I do mind when the appointment drags on and eats away a weekday morning (an important one, mind you) in two-hour bites.
The good news, after all this medical inspection, is that I'll be healthy enough to continue writing until at least next week. After that, I make no promises.
Meanwhile, I'm now juggling a variety of miscellaneous crap at home; I've been doing lots of cleaning, organizing and upkeep in advance of Kaia's arrival in early/mid June -- normally, a month to prep the apartment for one's arrival isn't necessary, but despite Kaia being incredibly laid-back and not anal about seeing a dust bunny in a corner, my apartment is sort of mission control meets the junkyard. When I have friends and family over, it's relatively safe for human consumption, so I've tried to get it back to livable shape so when she's here she's comfy and she doesn't mind leaving the W.
However, having said all that, after the rush from The Godfather wore off (ie after I'd finished it for the second time) I went back into the well and pulled out Max Payne 2, a game I'd gotten from a friend a few years ago. It's more of a mystery/shoot'em up type game than The Godfather, but I figured I would try it out. The stories and the work put into games these days is almost more rewarding than movies, and this particular game is a mystery involving corruption, a large corporation, the Mafia and russian gangsters. So I have been moving through it slowly but surely, but again I am reminded that this is an occasional, rather than regular, hobby for me; there's too much else happening in my life for me to sit for hours in front of a PC, bleary-eyed and blistered, going in circles to try and navigate my way through a game. But every once in awhile, it's nice to dip my foot in that pool. It reminds me of my youth, and it also reminds me -- for better or worse -- that the garbage doesn't take itself out.
In either case, Kaia and I are trying to reconcile our schedules these days -- she's slammed as much if not moreso than me -- and we're lucky if we get an hour to talk at night. We'll each spend Sunday with our families, but at least she's working from home tomorrow and I'm around for part of the weekend. The hard part about us being on opposite coasts is that when we get busy with work, it's even more difficult for us to connect however we can in place of doing so physically and visually. Once she's living here, it will be a lot different; but until then, it's not easy for us to keep in touch 24-7. But as they say, nothing worthwhile is easy. When we're together, everything's awesome, and when we're apart and incommunicado for an extended period of time, it's difficult. So sometimes it's easy and sometimes it's not.
I am happy to admit, in this case, even when it's not easy, it's still absolutely worthwhile. Even if she doesn't care about Jorge Posada's two-bagger into left center ;-)