Life Is Too Complicated

Today is Saturday and my daughter who has been visiting from Cambridge Massachusetts will be leaving for the airport mid morning.  She arrived on Tuesday, as did her niece, my granddaughter, down from Canada with her family to visit her brother's family who lives forty miles south of here.  We joined them all for a dinner at a seaside restaurant on Wednesday to which my husband drove since he was between cataract operations, and alone can see to drive in the dark.  Thursday at the crack of dawn he went for the second cataract operation, my daughter drove back south to spend the morning with her niece and the two toddlers, I went to teach my Odyssey course, completely tired and confused, the former condition bringing on the latter in the elderly I increasingly notice.  Despite my inner despair as I talked in class, for some improbable reason several applauded at the end, and more wanted to know what I planned to teach in a subsequent semester!  Home for a nap, then husband, daughter and I were joined by a friend who drove us in the sunset and gloaming down to Venice to see "Sister Act," exceptionally well done and preceded by a fabulous meal at Made In Italy, our favorite pre theater restaurant.  Home to bed, and up betimes on Friday, so as to get hubby to an appointment with the cataract guy to check the result,  and can't even remember what happened the rest of the day except a visit to the bank to rearrange money, and then off to down town Sarasota for dinner, wonderful Italian place, and then to the Urbanite Theatre for an opening, their latest production, "Ideation,," and marveled again at the brilliance of their productions, the energy and discipline of the acting, and home to bed and exhausted, and up this morning, thank God I never need an alarm clock, but the grim truth is that I run on anxiety.  And now I sit here, looking through my appointments calendar app and noting that the next set of arrivals will be driving in around four this afternoon, and that means drinks, dinner, charm, wit, and so to bed, as Pepys would have it in his diary.  Tomorrow Sunday and a little look around Sarasota with the guests, chamber music concert at five.  Oh, quite forgot that when being dropped off at home after the trip to Venice on Thursday night, I slipped while leaving the car and bruised my rib, don't think it is broken, but did not go to the doc.  The pain is not that bad and will last three to four weeks the internet says.  The woman behind me at the Venice theater laughing and joking and loving her evening told me during an intermission chit chat that she was ninety nine as though this were nothing special and okay with her.  I tried to get the same enthusiasm, well, at least I tried.