I got up determined to spend the day catching up and I did--to some extent, anyway. Wrote out a more Christmas cards, wrapped the presents for the little girls in Jersey, made seme necessary phone calls, and washed the area rugs. My brother, Larry, called and talked and talked, telling me all about the Christmas gathering they have every year in Florida. After that, I took off for the P.O. I had intended to go from there to BOA to deposit those three checks I received, but when I left the P.O., I saw there was a big mob of teenagers waiting at the bus stop. Now, I like young people and these are surely good kids, but let's face it, they tend to be noisy and horse around a lot and I didn't feel like sharing the bus with so many of them. No prob, I'll go to the bank today or in Ojai tomorrow.
I had packed my lunch and was gong to stop and home to get Joe...
...but when I got to the middle, I saw Lorraine at a table reading her bible, so joined her. We chatted for a good forty-five or so, then Suzanne come up. She had just been at the pool and stayed to talk a bit. I maundered home after that and just watched T.V., while enjoying a small glass of bubbly. I've had in the fridge for ages. I then took a little nap.
Ellen called and we made our plans for the weekend. I decided to get the Access Van and will stay over at her place tonight, then we'll go to Santa Barbara on Sunday.
Made a Zelle transfer to somebody who had done some upkeep repairs on my house in Jersey. After dinner (Chinese leftovers), I watched the rest of the documentary on the queeen (U.K., of course), then turned in.
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WARNING: PHILOSOPHICAL MONOLOGUE AHEAD!
Today is the last day I'll be 87. How strange it seems to be nearing ninety. I'm in good health (unless something's lurking I don't know about--damn, that's the way my mind works!); I have a good, free, interesting life (I'm probably the only one who finds it interesting); and I know I should be thankful. I guess I am, but having no belief in an afterlife--I don't say there isn't one, I just don't know. More to the point, I don't believe anybody knows, so I find this one precious and I don't want to leave it. Every birthday, I feel annoyed and put-upon to be so old. People actually compliment me on my age and that's enough to drive me crazy: "that's wonderful," "you're so lucky," and the one that is invariably voiced by a woman and makes me want to stick a fork in her eye: "you're an inspiration." Hey, nobody wants to be eighty-eight, unless they're ninety-eight. Okay, rant over and now I'm inspired to go on with my inspirational life, for which I am actually grateful--to whom or what, I dunno, but I'll take what I've got and be glad I've got it. 💖
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