Are you a glass half empty person or are you a glass half full person? Does it really make a difference? Personally, I see a half a glass of a blended drink. In my glass, I’ve got the sweetness of my family and friends blended with the bitterness of Parkinson’s and the aging process.
Most people look at life from a more simplistic viewpoint: half empty or half full. As I drink from my half glass, each gulp provokes a different reaction. Right now, the drink is bitter. I’m in one of my off stages, having trouble walking and feeling punk. I’m sick of this drink but have no choice other than dealing with it.
This am, the crap had settled to the bottom of the glass and the sweet nectar of life was on the top. Renee and I went further and faster on our bike ride. It felt good. We went on a healthy walk through the local mall/ghost town and my glasses got fixed. I even made it back to the car without difficulty. I was almost normal. How sweet it is!
Renee and I picked up lunch from a new barbeque restaurant and dined together in our new home. Unfortunately, something always shakes up the content of the glass and today’s most sour concoction bubbled to the surface. We had to deal with the damage the movers caused. If you research movers on the internet, you’ll find horror stories. Our move does not rise to the level of a horror flick but we lost a refrigerator and one of our favorite pieces of art was damaged. The mover refuses to take responsibility despite the fact that we bought insurance to cover the move.
Drinking down the mover’s lies left a shitty taste in my mouth.
Before my nap, I called an old friend and enjoyed a lengthy conversation with her. It was like rinsing out my mouth with strawberry juice. I wish I could fill my glass with people like her but I can’t; I have to share her with others. She lives many miles away.
During my nap, my half a glass, which had emptied a bit since this morning, had filled back up. I’ve got to find a new Doc and that’s not easy. My profession has gone to the dogs. Every doc around here works for a corporation and I really want a private doc who will work for me. While I was looking for a new doc, a very bitter, bilious fluid flowed into my glass. I came across an article about Walgreens opening 500 doctors’ offices in their pharmacies. My dislike of Walgreens is well known and this new incestuous relationship between Walgreens and VillageMD makes me want to puke. The Walgreens of the future will sell you the cigarettes that destroy your lungs in the front of the store, send you to the back to see the doctor whose job is to try to save your lungs by ordering medications which his partner then sells you. Keeping you alive so you can buy more cigarettes is of paramount importance as is selling you the most profitable prescriptions possible. But enough of my rant.
No matter what I do, I always seem to have a half glass of a mixture of life’s best and worst nectars. As I’m wrapping this article up, I get a text message scheduling a showing to sell my house. My beautiful house that raised my 3 children and many more kids over the years sits empty waiting for a new family to add to its heritage. My house is full of good memories and sweetness, having been the summer watering hole for many in the neighborhood, no longer is wanted despite all the potential that it still has.
Ultimately, I have to drink down the bitter solution of a lousy real estate market and sell it far below its real value. So, is my glass half empty or half full? It’s a quarter full of life’s sweetness and a quarter full of life’s crap and my mood depends on what nectar is sitting on the top at the time I take a drink. Regardless of how I look at it, I must keep drinking or die, so I’ll drink down whatever I have to in order to live.
My birthday is Sunday. It seems that the in thing to do this year is to ask your friends to donate to a charity. Please, assume you are the charity I want you to invest in and buy yourself a present. Have a good time with your present and think of me while you’re enjoying it.
Here’s your music and jokes for the day.
An old man was wondering if his wife had a hearing problem. So one night, he stood behind her while she was sitting in her lounge chair.
He spoke softly to her, “Honey, can you hear me?” There was no response.
He moved a little closer and said again, “Honey, can you hear me?” Still, there was no response.
Finally he moved right behind her and said, “Honey, can you hear me?”
She replied, “For the third time, Yes!”