CRAP

I look at the thermometer. No, I don't go outside or get out of my recliner and walk to the window so I can see the old fashioned thermometer on the porch. Hell a coupla years ago one of the boys gave me this new fangled one that sits on the bookcase where I can see it from my chair. All electronic ya know. Has this here outside thingie that radios the temperature and humidity right into my house so I don't haveta get offa my ever enlarging tushie ta see it's too damn hot to go outside and knock around. Musta been a good present. Took the wife and me three days to get it working and then I had to have one of the boys help with it. Alla this new 'lectric stuff is like that. A three year old can just take it and make it go. Us old farts have to call them for help.

Shit, look at my cell phone. Wanna make a phone call? Ok, fine. Push the button on the side. Slide yer finger across the front of it. Push the little phone button then tap the button of the man's head. Run your finger up the phone and watch alla the names go by until you find the one ya want. Tap the screen a coupla more times and the phone rings. Well that's the way ya do it unless you're in the car. If you're in the car just say, "Call Joe" and the mouthy bitch in the dashboard says "Calling Joe using Jim's phone."

The wife looks over at you and says, "Honey what are you calling Joe for? You know he works in a high security area and has to leave his phone in a locker at the door."

Oh, Crap. She's right. "Cancel"

"Call cancelled."

"Thanks Bitch."

"Honey were you talking to me?"

"Uh, no honey. Why?"

Crap. I look outside from my recliner. I almost need to mow the grass but as hot and dry as it is if I do it might kill some of it. Besides, I look at the fancy thermometer on my bookcase. It's 10:30 in the morning and already 92 degrees. Weather service web site says high of 99 today. Guess I won't bother with the mowing today. Hell I can't even go outside and fuck around. Damn medicine I take says stay out of heat and sun. I believe it. Every time I ignore the small print and go outside I get dizzy and weak and feel like crap. Of course the damn allergies don't help much. Crap.

Wonder what's on TV. I pick up the remote off the table beside my recliner and scroll through the channels. Crap. Not a damn thing on I want to watch. We have 157 damn channels and there's nothing on to watch. Crap. There were a few good movies on but I've seen them a million times. I could almost act the main parts myself. I toss the remote onto the table and it slides off on the floor. Crap. Now I have to try and pick it up. You know how far down the damn floor has gotten for a man my age?

Maybe I'll try to read. I don't have any good books to read that I don't almost have memorized. Maybe one of my favorite authors has posted something new online. A lot of the crap posted is pretty bad but some of the guys and gals do it right. Hell, it's amateur writing for craps sake. You shouldn't expect professional quality here but from reading some of the comments left by Mr. Anonymous that is what's expected. They seem to take fiction personally and attack the author personally because the story that is labeled fiction doesn't agree with their picture of how things should be or are.

Ok, that took a couple of hours. Read a couple of interesting short stories. I sure like it when some of the masters post something. Guess I'll go online and see if I can play some poker. Hope I don't run into a Macho asshole that throws his play money into the pot trying to scare off someone with just a mediocre hand so he can brag about how he bluffed him out. I know I shouldn't play as if the money was real but I do. After all, the idea of the site is to entertain and "sharpen your poker skills". Of course the site is commercial so they have to have some way to make a buck.

Well, I won over $30,000 pretend dollars in a couple hours. Guess my pretend family will eat their pretend food for a while. Tired of this. Wonder what else I can do? Hum, solitaire on the ole computer? Naw. Really, really tired of that Crap.

Well, guess I'll write on another of my stories. The one I'm working on is already much longer than I like. I guess my topic was too broad. Have over 60 pages and am just about two thirds done with it. Even with that many pages I feel as if I have glossed over many potentially interesting things that I could have written about. Guess I'll have to go in and add something in a place or two before I go farther. This one may be 100 pages before I complete it. Sure am tired of writing it already but I have so much time invested I WILL finish it. Sometime. Soon.

"Hey honey. Why don't we get in the car and take off for a few days?"

"You know we can't dear. You have a doctor's appointment tomorrow and we have to go to the dentist on Thursday."

"Well we could leave Friday for a week or so."

"No, you know I can't do that. I have my quilt guild meeting Saturday."

"Well how about leaving Sunday?"

"No that won't work. We have the man coming to install your parent's new toilets Monday. You know you should be there to help them."

"OK, ok. We can leave Tuesday then."

"Well I guess we could but we would have to come back Wednesday. I have a doctor's appointment Thursday morning and another one Friday morning."

"Oh. Crap. I reach for the phone. I'll call my youngest son. Maybe he can talk. Push the button, slide the finger, tap the phone icon, tap the little man's head and shoulders, slide my finger up until I find my youngest son's name. Tap it. Ok, what time is it there? He's two hours earlier than we are. Which of these phone numbers do I want to call—home, mobile or work? Crap, it doesn't matter. He always has his cell with him. Tap that button.

Ring, ring, ring, ring. "I'm sorry I can't answer my phone right now. Leave a message at the tone and I'll get back to you as soon as I can."

End the call and toss the damn phone onto the table beside my recliner. Hum, it's almost noon. Wonder what's for lunch. I'm not really hungry but it's almost time to eat. That'll fill in a few minutes. Sure hope it's something that tastes good. Nothing seems to taste good lately.

"Honey what's for lunch?"

"I don't know. What sounds good?"

"I don't know. It's almost noon. Haven't you got anything out to fix?"

"No. I didn't think of it."

Crap. I wander into the kitchen to see what's there. Fridge has a few left over's in it. Nothing looks good. I take a sip of coke and walk back to the recliner. Crap.

Guess I'll work on my story again for a few. I sit typing for a few minutes and watch as the wife goes into the kitchen. I hear some clatters and clangs then the microwave begins humming. Guess she's throwing something together for the lunch I'm really not hungry for.

Ring, ring, ring. I pick up the phone. It's the youngest son. "Hey dad. What do you need?"

"Nothing. Just thought we could talk for a few."

"Oh. I was worried. I thought maybe something had come up with mom's cancer. I'm in the middle of a tactical exercise here (he's in the army and is a "Operational Controller"—I think that's the proper term—at the National Training Center at Ft. Irwin, CA.) and I can't talk. I need to go. Let me know if something comes up. I'll call you when I have time and we'll talk."

Well, that went well. I throw the phone on the table and hear, "Honey lunch's ready."

I wander into the kitchen and see the leftovers I saw in the fridge now steaming appetizingly (not) on the counter awaiting my attention. Wow.

After my exciting lunch I wander back to my chair once again. Maybe someone has posted some new stories. Well, I guess not. Solitaire here I come.

Hey, it's finally dark outside. Maybe I can go to bed. Well, it's only ten p.m. but I'll try to sleep. There's nothing else to do. Damn. Shouldn't have drunk so much water yesterday. I need to piss. When I piss I see it's already 11:23 p.m. Wow.

Crap. Need to piss again. Oh, boy. It's almost 1:30 a.m. now.

Finally I see dawn breaking. I stumble into the bathroom once more. Finally, I can get up. It's 6:30 a.m. That was a pretty good night. I only had to get up four times to piss. Damn I sure hurt. The whole body aches. Sure wish I could have at least one morning a week when I felt like I did when I was in my thirties or forties. Crap.

Think I'll sit on the front porch before it gets too hot and watch the kittens play. Sure wish I had a dog but if we ever got to go anywhere it would be almost impossible with a dog. You can leave outside cats alone and them take care of themselves. I hate cats.

I pour my first cup of coffee for the day and take a sip. Tastes like crap. I used to enjoy coffee in the morning. This new stuff is crap. I step onto the porch and one of two things will happen. I will either trip over the damn kittens or they will be nowhere in sight. I hat cats. They're always under foot. Wish I had a dog.

Crap. I need to buy some new cushions for these chairs. I forget to put them up and the damn cats climb up on them and get them dirty. Looks like someone ate a mouse or rat on my wife's chair last night. There is some bloody fur on it. Crap. I'd better wipe it off before she comes out and tries to sit down.

No cats in sight. Oh, wait, here comes momma cat. At least she's polite. Hates to have us touch her. All she wants from us is her food. Damn cats. I have the kitten's treats but they're nowhere to be seen. Every time we have meat of any kind I cut the fat and gristle into little chunks and give the kittens a little. My wife says if I didn't do that they wouldn't be under my feet so badly. Damn cats.

"Here kitty, kitty, kitty." Fuck, here comes momma cat. "I don't want you bitch. Where's the babies? Kitty, kitty, kitty." Crap. Still no kittens. Guess I'll just have my coffee and watch the sun come up over the hill and barn.

The door opens. Huh. The wife's up early today. It's only about eight. "Honey what are you doing out here? You know I have a doctor's appointment this morning. We only have a little over an hour to get there (we live about 40 miles from town). You need to hurry and get dressed so we can go. I don't know why you have to sit out here naked. What if someone came down the road?"

"We live on a dead end private drive. Its ¾ mile to the highway. If they come down here fuck them if they don't like to see my fat old body. It's hot out here and I'm on my own property. I'll dress like I want to."

"Well come on in. We need to go."

Crap, traffic's bad today. No one knows how to drive any more. "Move it asshole. The damn light's been green long enough for two cars to get through."

BANG! Lurch. My neck and back twist and it feels as if my arms are driven back past my shoulders. The wife screams. CRAP I've just been rear ended and we're driving the almost new car.

I get out of my car and walk to the rear. There's about four feet between my SUV and another, older one. A big honkin' woman gets out of her SUV and says, "I'm sorry. The light was green and I didn't see you there. Is there any damage?"

Crap. Didn't SEE me? I'm driving a damn candy apple red SUV and you didn't see me? Crap. Believe me lady if the asshole in front of me had moved when the light turned green I would have been gone and out of your damn way. Of course as soon as we got hit he took off like a scalded cat. Damn, now that you mention it, I hate cats.

Ok, ok. Exchange information. Thankfully there's no serious damage. The rubber on the back bumper is scuffed. I look under the car and everything seems ok. Enough of this crap. "Look lady. I know you're sorry. I don't have time for this. The wife's already almost late for her visit to the Oncologist. Look, I gotta go."

"I'm sorry. I didn't see you."

Finally, we get to the Oncologist's office. We're only ten minutes late. WHAT THE FUCK? We've been sitting here for thirty minutes. What's going on?

The wife goes up to the window. When she comes back she says, "They're having to get some approval from the insurance company and the woman who has to sign the papers is out to lunch. It'll be another thirty minutes or so. Crap.

"Ruth?" Well, finally. I look up and the nurse is standing there looking around. I have to say, "I'm sorry. She went to the rest room. She'll be back in a minute."

"Ok."

The wife comes back. I say, "They called you while you were gone."

She looks around. No nurse. Crap. We sit another ten minutes and hear, "Ruth". This time we get up and follow the nurse back into the Chemo treatment area. We take our seats and the nurse gets vitals and plays twenty questions. You know—"Do you have pain? On a scale of one to ten... Are you tired? Ok, on a scale of one to ten..."

Crap.

"Ok honey. We'll get back to you as soon as we can. The insurance company is having their doctor review the necessity for this shot (It's for medication to increase white blood cells). It shouldn't be too much longer.

"Why are you doing that?"

"Well we have to get treatment approved before we provide it or it won't be covered."

"I know that but why are you doing it today? We got a letter after her first chemo treatment that this shot would be covered."

"Oh. We've given you this med before? I wish you'd told us that and we wouldn't have had to do all this paperwork again."

Crap.

Well, finally we can go home. I sure want to be home. I'm tired of this crap. Fuck, look at all the damn people and cars. Maybe one of the cats will let me pet it when we get home.

Finally. We're home. Damn I'm tired.

Well, wonder what I can do with the rest of the day. Guess I'll look and see if someone posted a new story or another chapter on one I'm reading. Sure wish the authors would either post more often or wait until the story was completed before posting. Sometimes it is so long between chapters I forget what went on before and I have to read some of the earlier chapters again. Well, one of the guys posted another two chapters. Great. I have something to do for a few minutes. Nothing on the damn TV again.

Wow. It's getting dark outside. I can go to bed soon. Maybe that'll pass some time. Sure hope I sleep better tonight. Maybe some Tylenol PM will help.

WOW. That wasn't a bad night. I was only up twice. Wonder if the kittens are on the porch this morning. Maybe they will play for a while. Crap I sure hurt. I'm getting tired of this crap.

Damn, gotta go in. It's already 87 out here and its only 9 a.m. I'm beginning to feel bad from the heat. Crap.

Surprise, surprise. Nothing on the TV again. Guess I'll write about all this crap.