Life.......One Week at a Time.

I should probably skip writing about getting old and how it impacts my daily life. I know you all must be getting tired of reading about my woes. But since I can't take a break from it, why should you?

I started using a pill organizer a few months ago. Initially I bought it for the last cruise. It's a very nice pill organizer with seven little compartments, each embossed with the day of the week.

Every evening I take a calcium supplement with vitamin D, a digestive probiotic and a low dose thyroid.

Once a week I fill the little boxes with my three pills and have grown very fond of my weekly accomplishment when I remember to do so.  

The container has a red button on one end and a green button on the other. It's been more than eight weeks and I still forget it is the red one that is pushed inward to unlock the covers which is, in my humble opinion, ass backwards. Everyone knows green means go, or open.

Due to the variance in size and weight I must remember to put the thyroid in after the calcium. If I forget the order the larger pill displaces the smaller one causing it to flip into a different day's compartment or worse, off the counter and on to the floor. If this happens I find myself crawling around on my hands and knees looking for a white pill the size of a fingernail. 

I blow it off after I find it.

I'm not really sure why I take these things. My doctor said the calcium would be good for my bones. I think exercise and not falling down would be better. I take the probiotic as "a digestive" aid because the good for my bones calcium may, or may not be, constipating. The ambiguity of the calcium is not a problem since the probiotic may, or may not, be beneficial.

And the thyroid.....I have a few ideas about that.

According to a WebDoc thyroid quiz mine functions at 85% so my doctor and I will have a talk about this when I see him in January. On the other hand, I pay a monthly premium for medication so the thyroid is essentially free.

My decision to stop using the barista machine for home made lattes has brought ripples of chaos into our home. I'm now living in the mist of my own Butterfly Effect. When I was drinking two cups of milk on a daily basis Wanda and I could anticipate our needs and plan buying trips accordingly. Milk was added to our weekly Safeway list and it's now a random act. Non fat milk drinkers we are subjected to price, due dates and the possibility of buying low fat or worse, whole milk.

We tried buying milk at Costco since it's much cheaper. At first I'm happy to balance on the door opening of a cold ice box shifting 16 1/2 pound boxes looking for extended due dates but after a short time I tire and take whatever I have. Half of our last two purchases have turned sour prior to use. I think there is very little point in saving money only to pour it down the drain. I'd rather give it away.

Now the only thing worse than discovering sour milk in the container is realizing you have just poured it into your food. This happened yesterday here at home. An entire bowl of cereal and half a banana, ruined.

So Wanda and I had an adventure, we went to Walgreens for milk.

She wanted to pick up a few ladies items so I was dispatched to the dairy area. Although it occupies a very small section it was easy to find against the back wall nestled between beer, wine and assorted cold cuts. The milk itself was relegated to three lower shelves, the non fat the lowest. It was at floor level so like hunting for the little thyroid pill I dropped to my knees while tilting my head to the left.

I could generalize that people who drink non fat milk are in better health than those who drink whole milk so it's easier for us to get on all fours but there must be another reason my choice was on the bottom. 

Not that it mattered since the shelf was empty.

I don't know if this store has extra friendly, helpful workers because of it's commitment to customer service or they just keep an eye on you for security reasons but I soon saw an employee.

"The shelf for non fat milk is empty. Should I assume the store is out or do you have any in back?" I asked.

She smiled, "What color is it?" She said. Really, that's what she said.

"Ah.....white-ish, it's milk."

Here the manager Kirk got involved in the conversation.

"No, the label, what color is the label?"

How the Hell should I know what color the label is? I don't buy milk here on a regular basis. I don't even know what brand you sell. I didn't say but thought this.

Apparently you don't need to read to stock milk at a drug store.

Then Kirk explained that different blends had different color coded labels. Whole is orange and 2% blue. Non fat (or skim) is purple. Except at Starbucks, where he once worked as a barista, non fat there is green.

Did you know that at one time whole milk labels were predominately red? A study found that people associated red with stop signs and whole milk consumption declined. Over the last few years large dairies have used various packaging to promote sales, the rainbow label being one of the most successful.

After receiving my milk lesson for the millennium, out of necessity I selected a 2% and slowly made my way to the check out counter and a waiting Wanda. I'm sure she thought I'd gotten lost in the canned goods or candy aisle but much to her credit she said nothing. I put our selections on the counter.

I learned as a very young child Irving the Barber could not talk and count money at the same time. If I was inquisitive and bold enough to ask him a question at closing time he would always say, "Don't talk to me I'm counting money." For years I never spoke when at a check out counter always thinking I would interfere and my distraction would inevitably cause a shortage that I would discover after leaving the store.

I KNOW we paid for a lousy soda with a twenty and got change for a buck ten years ago. 

Try telling that to the manager of a casino.

In addition to limited reading for stocking, running a register only requires a rudimentary knowledge of addition and subtraction. Items are scanned or pictures that appear on screen selected. So while our purchases were checked I began a conversation with the clerk.

And while the manager, or assistant manger scanned, bagged and collected money for our items I talked with him about my favorite selections at Starbucks (after all, he was a barista and he started it) and my fondness for Steeltown coffee. Once we completed the transaction and while I was still describing my selection that morning, a grande non fat latte with an extra shot of espresso, $4.15 using my personal cup, Wanda informed me there was someone behind me.

Regretfully this is not he first time she has done this. I find myself in this situation very often these days.

I'm slowly becoming one of those people in front of you in line who doesn't shut up and leave when they're done.

I'm like the person who finishes filling the gas tank, gets into the car and farts around with their receipt and credit cards while you wait for them to pull away. Or the guy at the bank drive-thru who insists on counting his cash, replacing his wallet, clicking his seat belt (that he had to remove so he could reach the window) and adjust his testicles before motoring ahead four feet which would allow you to start your transaction.

I've come to the conclusion I am so starved for conversation exchanging pleasantries and world views with total strangers is becoming an important part of my life. 

I delude myself into assuming others actually listen to and care about what I have to say.

Or have I gotten to the point where I'm just unaware there are people lurking just outside my personal space?

Whatever the case, Wanda now has another job. She needs to be my people checker.

There's someone behind you now.......move it along.