Maybe I’m foolish, but when I walked into my doctor’s office this morning and cheerily announced “I only get sick three times a month now!” I expected her to be happier for me. Instead, she ordered more tests. Honestly, I didn’t think there were any tests left that I haven’t had, but there are. So in a few weeks I get to have an MRE done of my belly. That gives me plenty of time to panic about it.
This week has been a number of day trips visiting all the people and places we said we would get to this summer. Yesterday we finally made good on our plan to ferry over to Provincetown. I was expecting an easy day of checking out a restaurant or two, doing some shopping. To our surprise, there was a parade yesterday instead. So we spent the day battling crowds and getting in a lifetime of people watching. It wasn’t disappointing, just…different.
After riding the ferry yesterday, in very close quarters with the same people for 1.5 hours out and another 1.5 back, I am reconsidering my desire to ever go on a cruise. If I was annoyed by everyone when we were still in line to board, maybe I wouldn’t last very long on a boat with the same people for a week.
Every few years I get the itch to go to Italy, and since it’s been four years since my last trip (my fourth) I’d love to get something in the works. I say that now, but when the busy fall starts up again, and the sweetheart and I are back to traveling every weekend to see each other, I’m not going to want to plan any extra travel. It feels like I life out of a suitcase as it is.
Next week I’ll be performing with your favorite neighborhood opera company in the North End as part of the City’s Waterfront Performing Arts Series. Like a good soprano, I will sing a heartwrenching aria about love lost. Good times.
Sorry folks, no time for a seventh quick take. The beach calls, and I have a caprese salad to make. Have a great weekend!
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