It's going to rain. |
There has been enough rain in the past couple days that the huge puddle at the end of the driveway seems like a permanent fixture and one of the deck flower pots is frequently underwater. One pot seems to have no drainage at all, and is covered with a half-inch of water on the top.
At the same time one pot of basil is drowning, the lowest tier of the
three-level planter with flowers somehow remains parched. The excess water from the
basil gets poured into the flower planter and balance is temporarily restored
in the deck planters.
Yesterday, while I drove to the
chiropractor, dark gray clouds were gathering overhead, the wind was picking
up, and a storm alert invaded the dashboard navigation screen. This was a helpful
feature, except for the use of military time which required some mental math
gymnastics to figure out what time 2100 is, but I finally got there.
While doing my adjustment, the chiropractor
told me to relax. If only relaxing was as easy to accomplish as being told to do it. Heck, I wish I
could remember the last time my body felt anything remotely close to relaxed. It
usually feels tense and ready to shatter like peanut brittle dropped on a tile floor.
There is a tiny bit of relaxation
for about 30 to 60 seconds every 12 weeks while at the hair salon when my
stylist does the scalp massage during the shampoo, but that’s about it. When my
back used to hurt before the pandemic, I would go to the nail salon for a pedicure. This put me in
the massage chair for 20 to 30 minutes, which cost a lot less than a massage and was easier to schedule, but that hasn’t happened since the
summer of 2019. Several years ago, when I was a member at Planet Fitness, I
would use the water massage bed, but they only give ten minutes on it, which was
pleasant, but never enough time to get close to anything that could be called “relaxed.”
Someday.
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