Aids of Androids?

Stupidity is passing up the free flu shot my company offered because, "I don't get sick."  Do you realize what all we touch?  Elevator buttons, coffee pot handles, refrigerator doors, microwaves, stair railings, vending machines, ATMs, fax machines, copiers, and the list goes on.

But we are smart.  Technology, medicine and preventative measures can beat this, right?  We've come so far in the fight against germs.  Signs are up at work to remind us to wash our hands.  Sanitizer dispensers hang at the ready for that extra attempt to rid ourselves of any bacteria waiting to bring us down.

Faucets are automatic.  Soap dispensers also automatic.  Even the paper towels offer themselves with just the wave of our hand.  And yet we cram ourselves into elevators with twenty people in a 6x6 foot space.  Canned sardines have more wiggle room. 

Then came the  smart phones.  "Here, look at this photo I took," then we hand our unsuspecting audience the phone -  not bothering to mention we just scratched our nose, or coughed into our hand or played Words With Friends in the ladies stall during break.  My dog's nose leaves less smears on my windows than my fingers do on my phone.  And now the phones have gone a step further where I touch my screen to your screen and transfer information.  We're transferring more than information; we're creating a pandemic.

Will I give up using my phone?  Never.  I guess I'll just need to be more selective in passing it around or hesitate before automatically taking the phone someone is handing me to look at their pictures.  But I know one thing, I'm getting the flu shot next year.

Be Progressive

Not being a progressive person, I don't know what prompted me to get progressive lenses.  You would have thought the word itself would steer me away.  For years I used glasses for distance only, but rarely wore them.  Unless I was driving at night or in an unfamiliar area where I would need to read street signs, found I really didn't need to wear them.

Gradually I realized I was having more and more difficulty reading small print.  Eventually I bought a pair of over the counter reading glasses.  They did the trick, but I didn't want to wear the dreaded chain that hung around my neck or have them perched on my nose like Santa.  My husband bought me a beautiful chain from Brighton, but I thought if I used that then the next thing would be a lap cover over my knees.

The progressives seemed to be the answer since I didn't want two pair of glasses.  It would allow me distance, reading and in-between work such as viewing my computer.  It took some getting used to, but over time I adjusted.

Such is life.  One adjustment after another.  Those who resist are swallowed in depression only thinking what they used to be able to do.  Others who embrace change can face life with more joy of what they can do.  I realize this is the first of many changes, but I intend to embrace life and live it with all the gusto I can muster.

Enigma - Who am I?

Remember the Skechers claim when you wear their tone up shoes?  Well, I think I got the dyslexic version of the supposedly slimming sneaker – my backside got bigger and my topside tinier.

My whole life has been that type of a contradiction.  It started with my vacillating vision of what to be when I grew up.  I had it narrowed down between a missionary and a go-go dancer.  Never conventional were my aspirations.

Not quite raised to be a stay-at-home mom, but not enough college to support myself comfortably, I found Mr. Right and marched my way down the aisle to suburban marital bliss.  Don’t misunderstand me.  Life has been good.  I have been happy.  It just left me wondering – what could I have become if I applied myself to something; anything.

There has not been a moment when I have been on my own.  From the safety of my childhood home to college, from college to apartment living with roommates and then into the arms of my husband and our own home, I have never had to worry about a roof over my head.

It’s time for some worry in my life.  Worry molds you, shapes you.   As long as you keep the clay moist, you can reshape the warbles that alter the shape of your choices.  I may have started out a vase and ended up a cup.  But as long as I find my intended purpose, the vessel is irrelevant.

Fifty was a milestone birthday.  I no longer want to be the dutiful daughter or complacent co-worker.  It sounds so wrong, against everything I was raised to believe.  I know I will still be all these things, but I am anxious to finally learn to be me.