Whatta Day

What a friggin' day.  I had no sooner entered my door after our walk (7:35 am) than Anne Mary called to ask if I had any time open in the morning.  I had only an eye doctor appointment scheduled and that was at 2:45, so agreed to take her to physical therapy.
What an ordeal.  It isn't far away, maybe three miles, but the time and effort involved in dealing with A.M. is prodigious.  Takes her an age to do anything and go anywhere and her incessant talking and bizarre ideas are wearying.  She was "signed off" (her words) by the surgeon to start driving on Sunday, but didn't, and now expressed the opinion the therapist has to "sign off" on the go-ahead, too.
She had said her appointment was at 11:00 because "you have to be there early to fill out papers" and that's when we arrived. The "papers" would have taken ten minutes to complete by a normal person, but it was probably 25 for her.  She questioned most of them, such as the scale from 1 to 10 if  you have pain--geez, you either have pain (she doesn't) or don't have pain.  And, of course, she demands a copy of every piece of paper that goes through her hands.  She also keeps books wherein she writes a synopsis of every doctor's, financial, and for all I know, trips to the bathroom to which she goes.
Anyway, what with her chatting up the long-suffering receptionist, then the obligatory stop at Wawa, I didn't get home until after 1:00.  Oh, and Anne Mary discovered I was going to Bam! bookstore and asked me to get her a gift certificate.  Okay, I will, but that's going to be the last for a while of my neighborly support. Nutty neighbor also asked if I'd be "near a Target," so I could pick up for her vanilla yogurt-covered blueberries (she's always very specific with no deviations  allowed).  Stopped there to get them before my doctor appointment, but couldn't find them.  Will try today.
Went to the eye doctor and was relieved to hear there's not much change, but was again, of course, urged to get cataracts removed.  I'm just so nervous about this, I want to postpone as long as possible.
Joe F. called in the evening with several changes he wants to the profile--a little annoying, considering all, but I'll do them and the hell with it.
Talked to Leslie and Betty.  Boston Marathon bombing is a horror, of course, but I can't help thinking of the bombings we inflict on others every single day.  Guess that put me in a gloomy mood, but I'm confident it will lift before long.