My overburdened Primary Care Physician's office now does this computerized appointment reminder phone call thing. They called me last week and the recording said I had an appointment for Tuesday, and to press "1" to confirm that I'd be there. That's all it said -- no "press 2 to speak to a receptionist" or "press 5 if you need to cancel" or whatnot; just, press "1" to confirm. Dudes, if you aren't going to give me a choice, why bother make me press anything at all? I didn't press anything, because I had no idea what the appointment was for, so I just hung up. A few hours later I remembered that I still needed a booster shot for an immunization I got right before traveling to Belize, and that I had probably made this appointment way back in January, so I called back and spoke with an actual human to make sure I still had the appointment, which I did (see? I didn't press anything, and it didn't cancel the appointment. So stupid).

Anyway, the booster shot appointment was for this morning, so I hauled ass over to Easthampton, where the receptionist (who looked to be about 16 years old) told me she was sorry, that someone tried calling me but I didn't answer (I was in the shower, duh), but that they actually shouldn't give me the booster for another month and a half. Huh. If only an actual human had called me instead of a computer, or I had been given the option of speaking to a human last week, we could have cleared this up then and saved me some gas and time. Sigh. I made an appointment for the end of July and that was that.

[This post has been #385 in the series "Things that could be greatly improved if only people listened to me, the expert on everything."]

It's pollen time down at the 'park. My "back yard" (really a common area) looks like it's been shot in sepia tone. Pale yellow covers everything. We need a stiff rain to wash it away. Amazingly, this particular sort of pollen doesn't bother my allergies, though the sheer amount of it makes me sneeze (as it would if it were regular dust) so I wear a mask whenever I futilely try to sweep off my porches. The little particles are so tiny, you really can't get them all off the porch floor. And though I have considered it, I think using a vacuum cleaner in what is technically an outside space is a little too close to have-to-scrub-my-hands-100-times-a-day town for my liking.

I've sort of finished an art piece that's been sitting on my desk for months, and I'm in the middle of converting an XL men's buttondown shirt into a shirtdress. The sleeves are tripping me up, big time. I'll try to post a picture of it when it's finished. (I should have taken a "before" shot... oh well.)

Tomorrow! Tomorrow is Election Day! When I will be drinking and crying no matter what the results are, though for different reasons! I can't wait until this long national nightmare is over. I can't wait to return to my little bubble, where I don't have to listen to the kinds of people who ignore mountains of actual evidence in order to believe incredible, outrageous stories that fortify their own prejudices and beliefs. You know, the kinds of people who love Sarah Palin. I can go back to pretending that, while there might be people like that out there, there are only a few, and those few are considered harmless crackpots in their communities. After tomorrow I won't have to hear assholes on the radio calling me unamerican because I believe in national health care and taxing the wealthy. (Sure, people will still be saying that, but it will be in easily-avoided pockets of the internet.

And for the first election of my lifetime, I want one particular candidate to win SO BAD. I've always wanted my guy to win, sure, but this time I actually really, really want my guy to win. As in, I'm excited to see where he'll take the country. I don't even want to talk about it because last time (2004) was such a disillusioning heartbreak, and back then I didn't care even half as much as I do now. I can't wait to vote. I wish it were tomorrow night already. Please vote tomorrow; our state is a lock for Obama, but the ballot questions are still a toss up. (Just follow my handy guide: 1. No, 2. Yes, 3. Yes. You're welcome.)

See you on the other side.