The next step is the Cotton Candy Machine at Golden Corral.

This new blogger format has been an adjustment, and by adjustment, I mean it has grated on my last nerve.

I don't do well with change. Just now I was sitting here trying to figure out how to write a new post, thinking "Where does it say new post?" and then realized that the little symbol with the pencil is what I need to click, which makes perfect sense, because, you know, pencil equals writing.

That may in fact be the worst structured sentence known to man, but cut me some slack, people. I am stressed.

If you don't have a Blogger blog, you have no idea what I'm talking about because you are able to live in this perfect world where you don't have to search for virtual pencils and you can just get on the Internet and enjoy life.

But, for the rest of us, it isn't all fairies and rainbows.

Hubs knows I hate change. I remember when we first got a mouse and he was trying to help me use it. I couldn't get used to the eye-hand coordination and every time I would move the mouse, it would move the little hand way over from one side of the screen to the other.

 I got so frustrated and declared, "I HATE these things! Why can't they just let me do things the way I used to?" 

And, Hubs, in his incredible patience, just kept showing me how to point and click and open this window and the other until I learned to survive.  Either he does, in fact, have the patience of Job, or he has learned to completely tune me out.

I'm sure you didn't stop by to learn about my neuroses, so I will move on.

This morning I went for my annual physical.  It was all routine and the like, but my doctor is starting to check things he never would have while I was in my 20's or even 30's.  He asked me how my heart is feeling, looked over my blood pressure numbers, and reviewed what labs I need.  He also checked my carotid arteries which are apparently working just fine even though my cognitive abilities while trying to navigate Blogger are foggy at best.

We are starting to discuss things we never did before, too. We launched into a discussion about cholesterol, things like heart attacks and liver damage and how this thing and the other happens to you after menopause. 

Hello! I am still listening to my Janet Jackson mix tape. 

Actually, I am nowhere near menopause, but the fact that it comes up in conversation now is something I never thought would happen when I was in my 20's. What ever happened to the important things in life like Bonnie Bell lip gloss and the latest episode of Seinfeld?

(And, I am hoping my cholesterol will be fine, even after all that pimento cheese in Charleston.)

Would you like me to go back to my neuroses?

This post is all over the place.

After Granny left the doctor's office, I went to lunch with Hubs.  We had Thai food because it is our favorite restaurant and now that we are old, we love to be in a rut.


I spent the rest of the afternoon with Daughter dropping off clothes at the dry cleaners and making a run to Dollar General where we purchased peanut butter and beef stew for the church food pantry and some dish detergent.

When we checked out, the cashier commented about how expensive peanut butter is getting and that she just paid over five dollars for a large jar of Jiff. I agreed and we chatted about how we should both become peanut farmers.

This is what old people do.

Right after they complain about the Internet,  discuss their ailments, share everything they ate that day, and list every item they bought at The Dollar General.