I am so not well yet, Vol. CCCXXIX

Ah, Sunday. I slept in till 8:30, stinky airplanes buzzed the house and woke me up. Made my last pot of hazelnut coffee, stuck my hair up with one of those clampy things, slapped on my face, and went to the 10 AM meeting up at the hospital. I like that meeting; there are two speakers and no one has to share from the floor, thus greatly reducing my propensity to share my dubious wisdom with the folks. On my way out, I ran into one of my least favorite people in the world. I remember her from meetings 10 years ago. She had this freaky over-the-hill Alice-in-Wonderland look going, violently blond, straight hair banded with black velvet. I had no doubt she was a natural blond, as her skin had that white rattish pink thing going, when it was not milky blue. OK, I am being pretty unkind, and when I was around her, I was especially careful to be as kind as possible, even though she was the snottiest woman on two feet. So it was not without an inner snicker that I found her in the hall this morning, looking like the wrath of God, hair all flyaway and brittle looking, already prominent circles under her eyes even deeper than before, and her oh-so-handsome hubby looking like a seedy fireplug. And I said a prayer of thanksgiving for Karma, the cosmic credit plan. In spite of her appearance, she was still snotty to me, refused to acknowledge she even knew me, so I said "maybe you don't remember me" and introduced myself. And she snapped " I know who you are". Nice to know some things do not change. Lessons. Learn 'em, or pay later.