Lousy

A truly lousy day.
Betty called me when I was just about to walk out the door to go to her place, with this admonition: Don't ring the bell or knock, I'll leave the door open and when you come in, don't make any noise because I'll be playing Bingo on Zoom and they don't let anybody else in the room.
Oh, okay.
Packed up what I was bringing: The heavy bio on John Wayne, two Readers Digests I had gotten at the little lending library, a pair of socks I think are too small for me, and two chicken sandwiches.
Got to Santa Barbara via the usual three buses (all of which, I was surprised to note, are now free) at the usual 11:30. Walked in and yes, Betty was playing Bingo on Zoom. I put the sandwiches in the fridge and sat there for a bit, but four more games were coming up, so I said I'd take a walk, which I did. When I came back in, Betty motioned me over and introduced me to the guy calling the numbers--so much for secrecy. I gave her the  Fathers Day card I had bought and asked if I could take the one she didn't like and send it to Greg, just for fun. That was fine by her and I did so, but see later.
We had lunch, then played two games of Sorry! and one of Chutes and Ladders and I almost collapsed with boredom. There was then a Trivial Pursuit type of game on Zoom, in which we participated, sort of. I left about 2:45, so I could get the 3:33 bus back to Ventura and get home by 6:00 or so. As ever, it was a drag waiting for the various conveyances, but I'm used to it.
While on the bus, I got a link to my great-grandson's graduation virtual ceremony and also, a picture of him and his brother while on a campus visit to Rowan. I wanted to send it to my email, but didn't know how. That was frustrating and what came next was worse: Betty called to ask if I had the Fathers Day card she didn't like. Yes, of course, she gave it to me. But she had to know what the sentiment was on it and I had to dictate it to her. I did, but why?  I got a very confused, non-answer and at that point, I was tired and sad and I lost my temper; I told her I'd call her when I got home.
I did and tried to get some kind of explanation for the stupid thing, but she made no sense and I was more and more frustrated. I finally said I'd send  her the card and hung up. At that point, I called her daughter, Carolyn, the poor girl. I was in tears over the stupid incident and at the same time, furiously angry and feeling guilty for that. She understood utterly and completely and I felt better after I talked to her.
Later, after a sketchy "dinner" of rice cakes, cottage cheese, and blueberries, I felt even better when Ellen called. She listened patiently to the long saga of the day and sympathized, then invited me over for lunch tomorrow (Saturday). YAY!
I feel I'm back in the land of the living and that's where I belong.