Let me fix a picture in your mind, so you can visualize what I will be talking about.
‘My bed room is my castle, it is called the ‘Hibernation unit’. This is where you can find me at most anytime of the day or night. I do all my writing, reading, computer things here. I some times eat my meals here, keep records, entertain family, visitors and use it as a work shop. It has the same address as do all her rooms do. No other address is needed. Sooner or later. Your messages will get to me, as soon as we can find them after she has misplaced them.
All of my health needs are stored in drawers and on the top of the dresser, which has a glass top, long and thirty two inches high. A second low profile unit hold small TV. Computer equipment, a couple of printers, a scanner, telephone and speakers and an assortment of other items. Night stands on each side of the bed with lamps, Radio. Clock, and a thing that keeps a record of your vital signs, it’s called a Turtle. It is a device that sends data to the V.A. Hospital nursing care program.
On the dresser is all my Diabetic items needed to check insulin blood count, and breathing thing to help with my breathing problems. I need all this stuff, just like the Six million dollar man.
Well, I slept late this morning, as the little dog did not bark, to let us know he needed to go outside to do his thing. When I did get up and out of bed, I sat down in front of the dresser took a good look at myself. There was a look of distress on my face. I wondered, is this the way I look to everyone else that sees me! I smile at myself I made a fierce looking face. I stuck my tongue out and opened my mouth so one could see that I had no teeth. I winked at myself, and made a number of other facial expressions. and the face in the mirror looked back at me and never changed one little bit, it remained just an old sober looking face.
What really hurt was: to think of all the money and time I spent, at the barber shops and attending that Make Up Class and going to Charm School. That was when I realized that I was not designed to be a beautiful looking person, I was given brains that commanded respect. Now, if I could only make all of you people out there, under-stand that and bowl when I enter a room, I might even let you get by, with paying less taxes.
Comments, Anyone ?
Master of the Chosen Few ………
By; Ben R.
‘My bed room is my castle, it is called the ‘Hibernation unit’. This is where you can find me at most anytime of the day or night. I do all my writing, reading, computer things here. I some times eat my meals here, keep records, entertain family, visitors and use it as a work shop. It has the same address as do all her rooms do. No other address is needed. Sooner or later. Your messages will get to me, as soon as we can find them after she has misplaced them.
All of my health needs are stored in drawers and on the top of the dresser, which has a glass top, long and thirty two inches high. A second low profile unit hold small TV. Computer equipment, a couple of printers, a scanner, telephone and speakers and an assortment of other items. Night stands on each side of the bed with lamps, Radio. Clock, and a thing that keeps a record of your vital signs, it’s called a Turtle. It is a device that sends data to the V.A. Hospital nursing care program.
On the dresser is all my Diabetic items needed to check insulin blood count, and breathing thing to help with my breathing problems. I need all this stuff, just like the Six million dollar man.
Well, I slept late this morning, as the little dog did not bark, to let us know he needed to go outside to do his thing. When I did get up and out of bed, I sat down in front of the dresser took a good look at myself. There was a look of distress on my face. I wondered, is this the way I look to everyone else that sees me! I smile at myself I made a fierce looking face. I stuck my tongue out and opened my mouth so one could see that I had no teeth. I winked at myself, and made a number of other facial expressions. and the face in the mirror looked back at me and never changed one little bit, it remained just an old sober looking face.
What really hurt was: to think of all the money and time I spent, at the barber shops and attending that Make Up Class and going to Charm School. That was when I realized that I was not designed to be a beautiful looking person, I was given brains that commanded respect. Now, if I could only make all of you people out there, under-stand that and bowl when I enter a room, I might even let you get by, with paying less taxes.
Comments, Anyone ?
Master of the Chosen Few ………
By; Ben R.
June 12, 2011
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