Well, we’ve got about 2.5 hours before my son shows up to drag me back out to the Mayo Clinic — on the far side of Scottsdale, halfway to freakin’ Payson — for another time-wasting yack-fest.
These supposedly therapeutic sessions consist of gathering about two dozen old farts around a large conference table, where we spend three hours nattering on about how we can’t remember where we put our shoes.
No kidding! That WAS the subject of one chatterfest.
UNbelievable waste of time!
Did one person — either one of the freshly air-headed or one of the staff members — ever suggest that the way to not have to worry about forgetting where you put your shoes is simply to ALWAYS PUT THEM IN THE SAME PLACE every time you take them off?
Nope. Not one person came anywhere near suggesting that. It was all whine! whine! whine! I can’t remember my name!
Seriously: Wouldn’t it be better simply to recognize that as you age, your memory will weaken (that’s normal…) and take steps to address that problem? How hard IS it to…
…have a to-do list. Tape it to the back door or the bathroom mirror if you can’t remember where you put it.
…set alarm clocks or timers to ring when you have an appointment or something that needs to be done at a certain time.
…put your relatives or hired help up to reminding you that you need to do X, Y, or Z.
You see the problem…
Anyway, the last time we trudged out there for one of these get-togethers, it was two and a half or three hours of utter, COMPLETE wasted time.
And since I personally feel my time should be mine to waste, not someone else’s, I highly resented that event. And even more highly resent having to traipse out to the east side to waste another whole goddamn afternoon.
Understand: it’s almost an hour’s drive out there from here. That doesn’t count getting parked and navigating your way, on foot, through the clinic’s maze to get to the day’s conference room.
Which is to say that by the time you’ve traipsed out to the far side of Scottsdale and come back home, you’ve blown away two hours…and that doesn’t count the three hours blown away listening to old buzzards whine about losing their shoes. So in fact, you’re going to waste a good half-day.
Thought you had something better to do with your time? Hey…don’t be silly! You’re OLD…you don’t have anything to do with your time.
Right?