Didn’t think anything unusual about the dream, because I figured it was triggered by having earlier in the day clipped a recipe for zero-guilt peanut butter cookies using natural peanut butter, honey, an egg, dark cup chocolate chips, and ground flaxseeds.
What’s unusual is that, taking a nap yesterday afternoon, I dreamt I was eating the cookies I’d made in the dream of a few nights ago, but not exactly the same recipe.
There was another person in the dream who critiqued the cookies saying, “I prefer the apple.” That confused me in the dream because I didn’t remember making apple, only lemon, and I wasn’t totally happy with the look of the lemon because they’d spread.
Thinking I probably needed to add baking powder or flour next time, I was just about to taste the lemon cookie – had one in my hand, up to my mouth, about to bite when the cell phone woke me from the dream, jerking me to reality.
It was the doctor’s office saying “Your doctor has ordered a mammogram and bone density. Would you like to schedule those appointments now?”
“No, I would not. I told her I wasn’t doing those.”
Can you believe it?
Are they on crack?
Not only did I decline to the doctor but, at the end of Monday’s visit, her nurse looked at the chart and said, “She’s ordered a mammogram and bone density.”
“She did? I told her I wasn’t doing those.”
“Okay. I’ll have them removed.”
Since I’m not being heard and the calls have gone way beyond annoying, this is me setting the phone to block all calls from the medical center.
Finding myself awake at 5:30 this morning, energetic, ready to seize the day, I noticed the Honeywell registered 83°. Not perfect walking weather, but the coolest it’s been for some time and there was a breeze outside, so I suited up for a little exercise walk and set the phone to alert to Pokémon.
Evidently, the Pokémon weren’t awake yet because I’d logged in over a mile before coming across a fierce rhyhorn.
It felt so good to be able to get out walking again that I posted 2.44 miles before the sun shut me down, some of which walk was an attempt to reach the top of Shandlin Hill.
I failed – not even close, but I’ll keep at it because success determines whether or not I deem myself fit enough to -- for the fourth year in a row, handle the 5K hike up the steep killer mountains of Bonelli Park at this year’s Halloween Spooktacular in San Dimas.
Lastly, one of the residents in the complex caught me yesterday and said she'd told her 8-year old visiting grandson -- who was heading out of her unit to Pokémon hunt the complex on Sunday, that there was a woman here who also was into the game.
She says he got excited and wanted her to ask me to show him where the Pokéstops are and hunt with him.
She told him no.
Later, as his mom picked him up and they were leaving the complex, his grandma saw me taking out the trash and said, “There goes the lady now.”
He begged his mom to stop and let him talk to me.
She told him no.
Why?
I wouldn’t have minded at all. In fact, I gave his grandma my telephone number telling her to call when he next visited because I’d love to have a partner. I can show him where the stops are; he can show me how to battle.
So Pokémon is not just promoting exercise, it’s bridging the generation gap.
Wonder why she was adamant about not allowing him to ask you? I would be delighted if my grandkid asked to talk to an older person about something they both enjoyed.
ReplyDeleteFrom my conversation with the grandma, I got that she didn't want him to bother me. I think that's why she was telling me, sorta feeling me out. I told her I'd love it, so she now knows I don't mind. As for the mom, I assume she was tired, cranky, didn't want to be bothered, just pick up her kid and go home.
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