Back in the Saddle

After the energy and excitement of the Wonder Woman Run, it’s taking some doing to settle back down into senior living.

This month’s Activity Calendar showed a Veteran’s event, 9:30 – 11:00 yesterday.

I usually don’t have my makeup on that early in the morning, but made an effort to pull myself together, get out and down to the Community Room in time for the event only to find the main building deserted and locked up tight as a drum, because it doesn’t open until 10:00.

Once management and the Activity Director appeared and the building opened up, nothing happened. There was no event.

Next on the calendar is Fall Crafts, next Tuesday, 9:30 – 11:00.

Fool me once.

I now know to ignore 9:30, go down at 10:00 but, based on yesterday’s experience, I’m not banking on Crafts actually happening.

It’s not all about Activity Director being disorganized ─ which she is, but also having to do with Corporate’s spreading her too thin over too many different Corporate-Owned facilities.

Bottom line however is ... don’t put it on the calendar if you can’t do it.

On Wednesday the 21^st, we have the first Residents/Management meeting with the new Community Manager.

My annoyance at events being scheduled for 9:30, when no one in management is here until 10:00, is not worth mentioning in the grand scheme of things, and I’m not aware of anyone else on the property having issues worth complaining about ... except my buddy Apache whose mission in life is to bend Corporate and on-site management to his will, but I will be attending.

Management may take some heat for the mailbox repair being so tacky, what with duct tape around the edges STILL rather than being cemented in.

Also on the calendar is a Thanksgiving Celebration, Tuesday the 20^th, 11:00 ─ 1:00.

Lo and behold, it’s not a potluck. Management is going back to having the event catered.

Even though I won’t be able to eat anything served, I’ll go for the experience, sip on water, catch up with the seniors, take photos for our FB page.

Then I’m on the road, next day, for the second annual Thanksgiving visit with my formerly estranged daughter (Twin No. 1 by 5 minutes) and her brood to remind them I’m not dead yet, as no one on that side seems to pay any notice of me at all ─ even though it was I and Twin No. 2 who were there for them all those years when their mom fell down on the job of being a mom.