||[Jul. 24th, 2017|10:36 pm]
In the kitchen just now I did something odd. There are wall switches for the ceiling lights. Before I moved here I lived a couple of decades in a house with wall switches for the lights, and before that more than a decade in another house with wall switches. But until I was six years old we lived in a house where the ceiling lights were turned on by pulling a chain that hung down from them. Just now when I went into the kitchen I went grasping for the non-existent chain to turn the light on. |
This is a sign of serious regression, I'm sure. More than six decades of muscle memory down the toilet. Luckily the first house I lived in did have a handle-flushed toilet, or I'm sure I'd soon start reaching for the chain in the bathroom, too.
But that isn't the bad news today. The bad news is that a transportation problem has arisen and I won't be able to keep my appointment with the chiropractor tomorrow. Tomorrow's appointment had already been delayed from two weeks ago by another transportation problem. Assuming that this time my rescheduled appointment is delayed by only one week, and nothing happens to prevent me from keeping that rescheduled appointment, it will have been seven weeks between adjustments— and this in summer, when the difficulty of finding a comfortable sleeping position puts a lot more strain on my back and neck and joints.
Hey, it's wheelie bin night again. It seems to be coming around more and more often.