Change Is Hard

…but change is certain.


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Mall walking and blood letting

funky art 054 I’ve been going out to the mall every day in an attempt to increase my exercise level.  You know…from zero to anything.  The mall is about 4 exits down the freeway from me but it’s worth the drive; it’s in the shape of  a long oblong track, with stores on both sides and it’s just over a mile around!  How perfect is that!  It’s indoors, well lit, warm and there are lots of other people there in the mornings doing their walking.  There’s lots of stuff to look at, and if you turn around every other lap you get to see all the store windows!  I leave my wallet hidden in the car so I know I can’t spend anything.

One of the funniest things I’ve seen on my walks so far is a young man, walking ahead of me with his slightly heavier young friend.  The T shirt  hanging large on his slight frame was filthy dirty.  His baggy dirty jeans hung low across his hips, puddling over his untied huge and ratty sneakers.  The baseball cap worn backwards over his longish greasy hair did nothing to improve the total image.  His friend was dressed in an over sized jacket and sloppy jeans, dirty sweatshirt, and backwards baseball cap.  They were both eying all the young hip looking girls who were out “shopping”.  What was written on the back of the first guy’s T shirt?  “Ralph Lauren.”   Somehow I’m thinking Ralph would be aghast.

Yesterday I was scheduled to give blood.  The Red Cross called and I made an appointment for their blood drive up in Flint.  New Year’s Eve morning I headed up there, arrived about 15 minutes early.  Turns out I wasn’t on the list of people with appointments, even though the Red Cross had called the day before and confirmed the appointment.  So I had to wait in line with all the people that had walked in.  Ticked me off, but whatever.  Then during the pre-donation interview I was asked for my SS number.  I rattled it off and was told by a frowning nurse that I was incorrect.  “That’s not your Social.” she said.  Well…I said…yes it was.  Turns out someone had entered my information with one digit off.  But that caused a long argument between me and her as I tried to convince her I knew what my number was.  More time ticked by.   Finally I get to donate blood.  But the nurse can’t get the needle in the vein.  The blood won’t flow.  She tries for a long long long time!  She gets it started, walks away, then it stops and she has to poke around some more.  Another nurse comes to help.  More poking around.  Other donors come and go.  I’m still on the table.  “Hold your arm this way, or that way.”  Nothing helped.  This is very weird as I normally have no trouble donating.  Eventually they decided that there was a clot somewhere in their needle and they gave up.  I think I was on the table for about 45 minutes.  I returned home with a big bruise in my arm and a sad feeling that after all that I didn’t really get to donate.  But I tried, and I’ll try again next time, hoping that this was just an anomaly and not something that will happen again.

Meanwhile I’m looking for a yoga class and considering starting again to play with the local community band.  I’ve decided I should use this unemployed time to do some fun things even if I have to drop them once I find a job.

Here’s to a great new year, productive and fun, for all of us!

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