Taking care of business . . . but being a bad patient

Because taking care of business is what I'm good at, and being a patient is not. On my tombstone (or urn plaque) I want inscribed "She got shit done." So today I have

Made six batches of Caesar salad dressing. Because our P.T.A.-like group is hosting a pizza and salad dinner at school this evening before the Winter Performance, and one of my favorite kids will be sad if my homemade Caesar salad is absent. At least I got someone else to pick up the pizzas—thanks, Sabina!

Made a batch of Blondies. Regardless of my health, we're leaving Thursday for the Sierras, which as I type are receiving a major dump of snow. Yahoo! Ever see anyone ski with an oxygen tank? I'm looking for one. But at any rate, we absolutely can't go without Blondies.

Made some more hot buttered rum mix. We've run through one batch already. Imagine that. Recipe to come.

Zipped over the my oncologist's office for my monthly shot in the butt, which ensures that I lead an estrogen-free existence. Thanks, Nurse Monica!

Popped by my optimologist's office to pick up yet another pair of contact lenses for me to try in what is seeming a never-ending quest for lenses that allow me to see both near and far—a tale order at my age.

Stopped by my office long enough to swat back a few emails and receive from Boss Lady this:

Which is absolutely what I need to tell a comma from a period on a dust jacket mechanical, especially in very small type in grey scale (some of our designers are quite young, you see). I love Boss Lady.

Completed a Trader Joe's stop, picking up both salad making and grub for the trip. I was standing line having a major coughing attack, gasping for breath, and a lovely young woman asked if she could go first because she "just had a few things" and "was on her lunch break." I couldn't catch my breath enough to reply and so waved her ahead. At least she said thank you. Several times in fact. Amazing the shit you can get away with if you're polite.

Gathered teacher and school staff holiday gifts and written cards. All on our small list (it's a small school) will be receiving little boxes of artisan chocolates made in San Francisco, except for Sophie's teacher, who eshews such indulgences and so will receive this:

Took a nap. Really—I did!