That is, when they aren't taking vitals, poking you with needles, making you breathe vile concoctions and chanting incantations over you on regularly scheduled intervals. Of course, the regularly scheduled intervals are known only to THEM, so it's always somewhat of a coin toss as to whether the peace and quiet will endure for long.
Take now, for instance. Now is restful. Now is joy. Now all is in harmony with the universe. I'm fed, bathed, medicated, treated, had linens changed, spoken with friends and family, been stuck with needles again, and I'm ready for a nap.
However, the Forces That Be have other plans. Since breakfast was at 7:30 this morning and it is now nearing noon, I'm betting the lunch tray will be appearing at any time. On the docket for today's exquisite repast is fried chicken and mashed potatoes. If I were a betting woman (see: betting, above) I would also bet the "mashed" is spelled "i-n-s-t-a-n-t" and that whatever vegetable comes with it will be suitable for the toothless.
But hey, I don't have to cook!
Breakfast was HUGE. I did not eat all of it. Oatmeal, a cinnamon roll, a slice of bacon, scrambled eggs, orange juice, milk and
Speaking of Skype, now that I've found it I have ordered Cutie's dad to install a webcam. If they are going to insist upon being three hours away, the least he can do is let me talk to my family face to face upon occasion.
Of course, being as stubborn as I am he will likely ignore the order because orders annoy him and I will have to ask him NICELY. I hate when that happens. But I love him, so I will acquiesce.
And with that, I smell lunch coming down the hall. I'm sure there will be more exciting news later for me to impart.
Try not to sit on the edge of your seat. I hear it causes butt warts.