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Is it Friday yet? Well, it's worth hoping for, right? This is turning into a long week and it's only Tuesday! It appears that I have yet another no-show today. The sad thing is, this guy called us because he was interested in the PAC Mate, and I'd arranged for him to come and see both the BX and the QX so that he'd have a chance to get hands-on experience with both of them before making a decision. The appointment was scheduled for 1:00 PM, and as I'm writing this it's 1:26. We've tried calling both phone numbers that we have for him, and in both cases we're only getting voicemail. Why is it that people can't have enough respect for others to at least call if they're not going to show up? If I'm going to be late getting somewhere I always call the person to let them know, even if they've told me not to worry about being late. I guess I've come to expect that from others, but maybe it's too much to ask. Okay, so I just got an email about yesterday's person. She apparently said that her transportation didn't show up to get her. I understand the whole public transportation thing, believe me, I've had enough bad experiences to last me a lifetime. But, come on. At least take a couple of seconds to call and say that it hasn't shown up or whatever, or even call the company providing the transportation and find out what's going on. We're not mind readers. Okay, so end of rant. It's just extremely frustrating when I've got about ten thousand other things on my desk and can't do anything because I'm waiting on someone else who can't show enough respect to keep people informed.

In other news, I still didn't get a full night's sleep last night. Taz has been driving us both nuts by puking several times a week. It just kept getting worse, and last night was the final straw when he puked on the bed between Jim's feet and then took off. This morning we cornered him and put him in his carrier for a trip to the vet. With Taz this is most definitely no easy task, and long-time readers may remember my story from last year about how it took us close to a half hour to find him before we could get him locked away. This time we used the wet food bribe, which has never failed in the past. It worked again, and we made sure that when he got home he still got his food. I put him in his carrier and Jim took him to the vet. At eleven years old Taz is still a healthy cat, and is holding steady at about 7.9 pounds where he's been for years. They gave him a series of allergy shots, which he's actually had in the past, and said that if things don't improve in the next two weeks to bring him back for a booster shot. It's kind of sad to think that my little boy is allergic to himself, but for all intents and purposes he is. The shots have been really effective in the past, and if it keeps him from scratching and licking himself so much it'll be worth it. Once he got home he ate his food and has been hiding from us ever since. I don’t blame him. I think I'd probably hide too if I had to go out in the cold and then get needles shoved into me. SMILE! Oh well, I'll be able to cuddle with him tonight and try to make it up to him. And, it'd be really nice if, in return, he allowed us to get at least one full night of sleep. We'll see what happens.

Well, that's about it for now. It still doesn't look like this guy's going to come, which means that I need to get some other things done. Later.
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Well, not really, but you gotta admit, it caught your attention, right? SMILE! I did want to talk about time and toilets though. Don't ask, just read. No, this isn't going to be morbid or gross for anyone who just might happen to be a bit squeamish.

Let's start with time. Well, stop with time? Anyway, let's talk about time. I woke up this morning to light pouring through our cheap blinds. I felt a little bit like I was going to get a head ache, and checked to see what time it was. 1:05 AM? Um, I don't think so. Book Port, oh Book Port, where did you get to in the middle of the night. Oh, there it is in the middle of the bed. How did the unit and my pillow speaker get so far away from me, and how did I keep from strangling myself in the middle of the night with that extremely long cord? Anyway, the time. 7:39? Ouch! I've got a ride coming in less than an hour and a half, and my watch battery is apparently deader than dead. Hello Friday. Let's not mention the fact that Cally wasn't at my feet waiting for me to wake up. Some cat she is! Hmmm!!!!!

Okay, so I'm up. Jim's sleeping on his recliner. Either the cats and I pushed him out of bed again or he had another insomniac night and went out there to keep from waking me up. Either way, it's time to lay on the charm, really thick. So, mister darling handsome young man ... You get the picture. SMILE! I wanted to borrow his watch. It's big, it's bulky, but it's braille, and I have a problem with talking watches when it comes to wearing them. To me, they're just too weird. I like braille watches because they look more standard, and when I'm working with clients or in meetings, they're a lot quieter. Jim offered me his old watch, but the crystal is taped on, and I thought that would look really tacky. So, I got his watch. It's funny. He was looking at mine, and he said that he didn't know how anyone could read it because it's so small. His on the other hand, is so big that I have to look farther for the dots on the watch face. Size wise on my arm wasn't so bad. I have big hands and wrists, and most of the standard women's watch bands are two small for me anyway, so his band actually felt kind of good. Unfortunately, I have a problem sometimes with skin irritation from the back of the watches. This started to happen with his watch while I was out today. I was very happy when Jim got home this afternoon and handed me my watch, complete with new battery. It doesn't take much to make me happy some days. SMILE!

Now, for the topic you've all been waiting for ... .. .. toilets! Why am I writing about toilets where anyone and their brother can see it? For the simple fact that I was in a contemplative mood this afternoon after spending 5 hours with a client. I had some asthma issues while at her house, and needed my inhaler and a glass of water to settle things down. After finishing up with her for the day, my driver and I headed to Burger King for a very late lunch. I needed to use the bathroom before ordering, so my driver brought me to the door and I went in. The room was fairly small, and the first thing I noticed was that the so-called handicapped accessible stall door opened inward. Now, let's think about this here. You're in a wheelchair, and the door you're trying to get into can't be closed because your chair is in the way and you have absolutely no way to maneuver it out of the way to close the door, and the stall isn't big enough for you and your wheelchair anyway. Hello? What happened to privacy? so I shut the door, grateful that, at the moment, I have two working legs and feet. Then came the dreaded seat. Yes, I know they say that women shouldn't sit down in public restrooms because you never know what kind of disease you could get, but standing is just, it's just not normal! So I started to sit, and sit, and sit, and ... Finally I got the seat. This thing was really low! So again, you're a wheelchair user, you have a lot of leg problems. Maybe getting down isn't a problem, but how are you supposed to get up when the toilet comes up to your shins? Next we come to the bars. Oh wait, that would be the bar. There was a bar on only one side of the stall. Yes people, I'm going to pull myself up using one hand grip bar and the toilet paper dispenser ... Oops, there goes the dispenser. I guess I broke it. Was it really necessary anyway? Not only is the dispenser now on the floor, but said person, who really needs the support of two bars, has lost her balance and fallen on the floor because one of the needed supports is gone. Can we all say "law suit"? Then there's the issue of the sinks and paper towels. The single sink is situated at an angle directly in front of the door. Anyone who walks in would have to run directly into the person using the sink. The paper towel unit is placed up fairly high on the wall. I can reach it from a standing position, but anyone who is even shorter than me, *yes, people actually do come shorter than me), or people in wheelchairs would have no hope of reaching this dispenser. Just so you know, I myself didn't break the toilet paper dispenser off the wall, this was simply a hypothetical situation that could have happened.

So why did all this go through my mind while I was in there? I honestly don't have a clue, but I do tent to be critical of places that claim to be handicapped accessible. In my opinion, putting up a grab bar does not make you compliant with the ADA.

So, that's my bathroom rant. Now, aren't you all glad you decided to read my entry today? SMILE! There's not too much else going on right now. Since it's Friday night I'm kicking back, relaxing, and of course, writing this entry. I think I'm going to go and read a book though, and leave this computer thing alone for a while. So long everyone!


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Caroline C

May 2015

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