That bossy alter ego of mine, Nurse Judy, has gone off in a different direction.
She was protesting about the amount of time I spent watching the Home and Garden channel during this pandemic, she resented the money I spent online buying home accessories instead of buying “pretties” for her and she hated the fact that I rearranged furniture after every episode I watched.
I have to say that our other roommate, Beebe the cat, agreed with her completely on this latter point.
Nurse Judy loves to lounge on the couch, but when it began changing places every 15 minutes following a show, she was displaced until its final destination was reached for the day.
Beebe’s problem was similar. He dashes into a room and instinctively leaps into his favorite chair, but more often than not these days he finds himself on a side table (now placed where the chair used to be), with vases and knick knacks crashing onto the floor. This frightens him so badly, he tries to hide under the couch, his favorite hiding place, but he can’t find it.
At our house when Beebe and Nurse Judy are unhappy, nobody’s happy, and that includes me.
Therefore, I was surprised when Nurse Judy did a turn around and demanded I turn on the previously-despised channel at certain weird times of the day; you see, she was absolutely mesmerized by the show featuring lottery winners.
Since I still got to look at the beautiful mansions these new millionaires were shopping for, I didn’t object, although maybe I should have.
I soon found out that Nurse Judy believed we should begin supporting the lottery on the chance that we would become new millionaires ourselves.
She didn’t care so much about the mansions, but she was gaga over the monstrous sized walk-in closets they had. With our new wealth, she would be in hog-heaven buying all the “pretties” she wanted to fill those closets.
Beebe wasn’t interested in fashion, but his ears perked up when he saw that some mansions had cat-head shaped holes in walls leading into private cat suites. He figured I couldn’t move those around unless I began knocking down walls, so he began supporting the lottery idea also.
With two against one, I decided to give in on a small scale. After all, there are scratch-off tickets as low as a dollar apiece.
Once a week when I got groceries, I’d buy a dollar scratch-off ticket. Nurse Judy could hardly wait to get home and scratch it off. But after a month with no winnings, she began upping the stakes-more and more expensive tickets, more and more trips to the grocery store.
I was masking up and putting on my COVID-19 hazmat suit on an almost daily basis and the most money we ever won was $18. It didn’t pay for my gas, let alone the tickets.
Then the pandemic began getting worse again, especially in our region. Immediately this venture stopped.
Quitting cold turkey is a tough thing to do. Nurse Judy began saving all scratch off advertisements she could find in our mail. Her fingers would tremble as she held the quarter she used for scratching. Of course we never won anything. I knew it was time for an intervention, but there was no help for those who were sheltering at home.
I knew it was up to me to straighten this mess out. We now watch only movies on TV. The furniture stays in place. We all lounge in our favorite places, eating treats and getting fat.
Now we need an intervention from Overeaters Anonymous. Help!
More later, Judy