100 words for Sunday

A Sunday without 100 words? I cannot let that be, but I feel so empty, drained, spent, without my usual energy. I thought of these sentences as I awoke today and just now connect them to the procedure I endured on Friday. Once again, against my better judgment I did as bid, putting myself in a degrading, vulnerable, deprived position, alone with insufficient guidance on how to make this inconvenient preparation less onerous. Now I know, of course, and I presented my findings to the staff at the endoscopy and colonoscopy center who merely said, “Thank you for your input.”

I guess the rainy day didn't help my mood this morning, neither did the fact that Skype decided not to work, and I can't use my tv to run Netflix, something about the Internet connection. But I recovered after reading the Sunday paper; I have a gluten-free bread baking in my new bread machine, my grandson will fix the computer problems when he returns from an off-road bicycle ride and Steve and I have just returned from visiting my husband in the assisted living community.

I am reading a sad but well-written book about another wife caring for her husband with dementia. As a poet and a college professor, she is able to share her feelings which are so similar to mine. She also lives in New York several blocks from our old apartment near the Hudson River. The author is Rachel Hadas and the book is titled Strange Relation.
The proof copy of my book will be delivered by Wednesday; I can hardly wait, but I need Skype to be working so I can share the experience with my cousin Nora in Switzerland as well as with Linda who helped design the cover. We will each open a split of champagne and toast our accomplishment!