The saga of the chest of drawers continues. To be very brief: No, UPS didn't come between 9 and noon. I called and was blandly told they had no record of that time, but they work until 4:30--BUT I WON'T BE HOME THEN, I bellowed, then it'll have to be Monday, I was told. AAGH! I went angrily off to the SCAN meeting, stomping past the huge box in the middle of my minuscule living room.
Went to the SCAN thing--Dr. Wooding on Mental Health for Seniors, which was actually pretty interesting. Dr. W.'s delivery is entergetic, his anecdotes so amusing, and his language frequently salty--what could be more entertaining?
Sat with friends Carol, Doris, and Jean, all of whom I'm getting to like more and more. I'll be seeing them on Wednesday at a kind of health fair at Cypress Point Independent Living. I also met a woman named Dolly something and we hit it off right away. I guess women our age--the majority of whom are widows--always exchange what happened to our husbands right away. Dolly's was a doctor, in fact, did his residency 50 or so years ago at Vertura Community Medical where I had my transfusions. He was playing poker when he had an aneurysm, just what carried off Desi. The other players were doctors, too, and they got him to the hospital right away, but not soon enough, I guess. Anyway, I liked Dolly and invited her to come to a widder dinner and/or lunch; will give her the information next week.
It's remarkable the resources offered to senior citizens here. I could probably go to something every day, plus evenings, if I wanted to. However, I'm selective; there's no point in going somewhere just because it's there and I do have a fair amount of other things to do.
Lecture wasn't over until after 4:00, then I went to the supermarket. Started chopping up onions for dinner when the doorbell rang about 6:00. Guess who? The UPS guy, of course, and don't ask me why I was told they only work until 4:30 because I don't care. He loaded up the box, gave me a receipt, and left.
Finally, that's over and now I'm back to square one, waiting for my bureau.