And also it feels like I ran around all day.
So, I did my best with my bedtime but it wasn’t quite enough. I did sleep well and got up from the alarm. And then I had to keep on track right away because I had to leave around 9.30.
But first I wrote short morning pages, then went off to do some research for my doctor’s appointment (uncharacteristically late for me), spent half an hour on the manuscript (and would have loved to write for longer), decided to do a short 5-minute yoga routine and skipped meditation.
Meanwhile my husband had started a fire and then made me tea, nice.
We had breakfast and started talking about a friend of his and then I had to rush off because I was already a bit late.The research had not been the only thing I had left too late, I also had to take my wardrobe apart because I was looking for my dark grey wool cardigan. I bought it in the late 90s and it would have been the only thing I could wear with my purple meh’ t-shirt and my wide-legged pants. I do own a purple cardigan but it is long and flowing. I mean, I am already looking rather stocky in those pants, I don’t need to wear a top that makes me look like a sausage roll wrapped in two tents. In the end I had to settle for the black cotton cardigan that is a bit too tight and too short.
I went out the door five minutes later than I wanted, started speed-walking my way to the train station, put my earbuds in and realized that I had forgotten my phone. Deciding that I’d rather miss the train than go without my phone I turned around and picked it up.
I mean, being a little late to a doctor’s appointment is not the end of the world. And when I had looked up which train to take I decided against the one getting me there right on time because chances were high that one would be late.
I didn’t find out, though, because I did catch the intended train after all. After speed-walking all the way, getting seriously out of breath climbing the stairs, then running towards it when I saw it had already pulled in, but the train driver was gesturing at me to take it easy, that he would wait.
I stamped my ticket, put my mask on, entered the train, sat down, and realized I needed my asthma inhaler. I don’t like this. I really need to lose weight again, asthma sucks.
Anyway, I arrived at the eye doctor without incident, saw someone who measured my eyesight with one of those machines that show you a red balloon, talked briefly to the doctor, had my eyesight measured with my glasses on the old-fashioned way, got eyedrops, had an image made of my retina (only 95 €!) and went back to talk to the doctor who shone bright lights into my eyes.
(Weirdly enough my mother did not know what I was speaking about when I mentioned the measuring machine with the balloon to her. It’s called an autorefractor.)
The result was that a) my eyesight is 100 % in my right eye and 50 % in my left with glasses, so I can drive if I want to. I had asked because we’re renting a car during Easter break; b) my macular pucker is looking pretty much the same as half a year ago, c) cataracts in the left eye are severe enough that they basically reduce my eyesight by 50 % but, most important of all: it’s probably best to leave it all alone for now.
If I had surgery on my left eye they would have to operate the right one as well. That is standard procedure in cases where there would be a severe difference between the two eyes. The right one will probably need surgery for the macular pucker eventually but no one wants to do that before it’s really necessary. When they operate a macular pucker they usually will give you an artificial lens as well because that operation often leads to cataracts.
So. I left with the advice to come back in a year, earlier if something is wrong.
Phew.
I took the train back home, went to the supermarket where I buy yogurt, and I met my mother-in-law who was very surprised to see me there, didn’t quite get that I just returned from the eye doctor, that I went all the way to Munich, even though she had just seem me leave the house (two hours before), that my eye doctor is not the same as her eye doctor, even though they are in the same street (we have talked about this repeatedly), that I have cataracts even though I’m so young (57) and then continued to tell me everything about her own shopping trip and how she took the bus there. And then she helpfully pointed the bus stop out to me.
I smiled as nicely as I could and walked to the health food store quickly because I felt the need for chocolate.
I came home just in time to wake the boy up at 12 but he had actually noticed his alarm for once.
My husband was busy working on the vegetable beds in the garden, told me he was planning to make fried potatoes, opened the fridge and found that there weren’t five eggs, like he thought, but only one. Because the boy had boiled some eggs the night before for the meal he wanted to make for his friend. My husband didn’t know about that. I said, no problem, I’ll just go upstairs and borrow some from your mother.
Only, she didn’t have any left as well. So I put my shoes back on and walked to the nearest supermarket for some eggs.
I came back, changed into running clothes and went on a very short, extremely easy walk/run. Way more walk than run. I also maybe should have drunk a glass of water before going out. I had a big mug of tea and two glasses of water before I left but that was three hours earlier at this point.
This is what it looks like when take a picture with my eyes not working properly. You know, because of the eyedrops.
I came back home just in time for lunch where it turned out my husband had only cooked for the two of us but not for the boy. Oops. In the end husband decided to just have a bun, he left the potatoes for the boy and me. He had thought the boy wanted to cook lunch, not dinner.
I had a short break, then the boy showed up and told me his friend would be coming over half an hour earlier than I expected. So I had to scramble to take a shower before, because I did not want to flash a 23-yo. (No worries, I took all my fresh clothes with me to the bathroom and even locked up.)
Turned out the friend was late and all was well.
I taught from 3 to 5.30 without a break (pretty short teaching day). I had four changes to my regular schedule (five if you count the student who said he wouldn’t come all April) in just one day. Also one of those emails where the father of a student sends an email (sometimes they put it in the physical mailbox as well) quitting with pseudo lawyer-speak wording and a demand for a reply ASAP. Because it was the last day of the month. I really like the student, she is having a bit of a lull right now which is pretty normal for someone in fifth grade who started a year ago. Oh, and I just raised the price by 5 € per month, so I’m guessing that influenced the father’s decision as well.
Interestingly, the student whose mother quit two weeks before in person with a smile giving me an actual reason who looked really relieved when I told them they could come back any time, made me feel much better about it.
So, after teaching I went to the kitchen said hello to the boy and his friend for the second time, admired their figurines, made myself dinner, went back to my studio, ate and read, did Duolingo, wrote a few texts, started writing this overlong post, and decided to give up on anything else for the day.
I went to bed, watched half an episode of C-drama and turned the lights out.
Phew.
Sorry this got so long, it’s just, a lot happened that day.
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