First Grammie muttered: "This has gone quite far enough!"
Then she lowered the boom on my cousins and me. Every family holiday gathering. Entertain yourselves, our parents said. Can do. Did.
"Far enough" rose up today when for the second straight week, there were no Pillsbury cinnemon rolls at Safeway.
I need an emoji but there aren't any angry enough to illustrate my outrage. Sunday morning without hot cinnemon rolls.
"Sunday Morning Coming Down," as Kristofferson wrote for Cash. For himself. For Willie. For the world.
On the other hand, I scored 3 boxes of Kleenex. I'm tired of blowing my nose on TP, of which I scored a 30-pack at Costco a couple weeks ago.
Out of the house for the second day in a row. My 14-day waiting period resets. Again.
Yesterday was the first visit to my new PCP, Abby, PA. Her office is practicing safety that's not over the top extreme. I was greeted by a young woman in mask, gown, gloves just inside the office's front door. ID, appointment data, temperature, blood pressure, stethoscope.
I was directed to drive to the rear of the building, and wait at the third door on the left.
After 5 minutes, the fourth door opened. Abby appeared, a touch-screen tablet in gloved hands. Mask, gown, cap. Detailed conversation about why I was there, and other familiar items. A formal title seems a bit much for somebody gowned in yellow, blue, and white.
I now have a PCP! Thanks, Northern Nevada Medical Group.
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