Friday was one of those days.
The week started off well enough. I got a free Fitbit, part of my insurance provider's wellness offerings. The first thing it told me is that I'm seriously sleep-deprived. It's worse than I thought. I'm getting three or four hours a night. That's what Trump is said to be getting, and look at the mental mess he is.
Collin dubbed it Snitchbit, because had my doctor checked it, she would have known what I'm not doing. (She didn't, but I still got a lecture.)
He and I both had doctor appointments on Friday. I also had to go to Jiffy Boob, aka the mammography department, for my annual torture. (Actually, it's not so bad as we get older. The girls start to droop anyway and don't get squeezed as much by a monstrosity I'm convinced was designed by the Marquis de Sade.)
I was so sure I could navigate my walker into the small Jiffy Boob dressing rooms--I got stuck in there. The technician had to help me get out. For a while there, I thought the Jaws of Life might be needed.
Once I was freed from the dressing room, it didn't take long to get things done. Our appointments with our primary care doctor were scheduled for afternoon, so we headed over to Boston Market for lunch. Major snowfall was expected, so we had requested to be on the wait list for earlier appointments. Just as we were about to eat, the call came. Could we get back over to the medical building right away? It seemed the weather forecast had prompted some patients to reschedule their appointments, and we could be seen right away.
We were in the doctor's office when the snow started. Things went downhill fast from there. What's normally a half-hour drive home took two hours. We avoided the interstates, expecting everyone to be looking for the most direct routes, but as it turned out, the side roads were just as popular. Visibility was poor. Conditions were so bad, at least one of the interstates was closed. There were stories on the evening news of commuters stuck on the road far longer than we had been. Some ended up sleeping in their cars or in booths at a local restaurant. Motels and tow trucks did a booming business that night.
At least we had our dinner ready to eat--with a bit of warming. The lunch we didn't get to eat at Boston Market was still delicious, hours later. If only we'd had time to stop at the grocery store....