It's just not easy being me some days. And this polka-dot dress isn't helping matters.

Several unfortunate events happened to me yesterday–so many, they’re too painful and numerous to recount in a post I try to keep under 1000 800 600 words. I’ll pick one minor observation, mostly to distract myself from the major ones. However, a bit of back story is necessary.

My son (“A”), 25, had eye surgery yesterday. He’s fine. The procedure was a follow-up on earlier surgery to attach is nearly detached retina. Since he lives about 150 miles from me and I promised to take him to the hospital, I had a fairly long drive ahead of me. For long-distance truckers and road-trippers, a 300 mile round-trip probably seems like a walk around the block. For me, not so much. I have this annoying neurological/immunological condition that renders me constantly dizzy and hypersensitive to overstimulation. Baffled doctors say I have Chronic Fatigue Syndrome. I say I’m a Dizzy Blonde doing my best to just appear blonde. The drive was complicated by heavy rains, a truck driver who cut into my lane while I was still in it, spray from other vehicles, the incessant ticktock of the windshield wipers, and Annoying GPS-Lady constantly saying “re-cow-clue-ating.”

Did I mention we were in a convertible and off-road for a portion of the trip? It stopped raining for only a few minutes. It was then that the freaking GPS couldn't "re-cow-clue-ate" quickly enough. Tough trip.

I picked up “A,” got to the hospital, hugged him, and They wisked him away. The hospital has rules about extraneous maternal personnel in pre-op. So I waited with my mom, who came with me for moral support and excitement.

Wall-mounted TVs in the surgical waiting area were tuned into a soap opera daytime drama, Get a Life to Live, or something. Like the dessert menu in the restaurant you’re in after your Weight Watcher’s meeting, you have to look even when you know better. In 10 minutes I knew way too much about these very intense TV people.

How can you not stare when it's right there?

The real Todd Manning (hunky) isn’t who you think he is (I don’t know who you think he is, either), so another DNA is ordered (I know the Mannings don’t have a HMO). Destiny (sexy) is abortion-bound decides to terminate her pregnancy. Nora (also sexy and has Destiny-issues) discovers that Matthew’s (hunky) baby is in Destiny’s oven. She wants to raise that baby with her beau, Bo. So the sexy girls get ugly with each other. Commercial break. Clint (Huh? Plot change) is going to die if he goes to prison (makes sense, I guess). Viki (sexy) offers to keep Clint (hunky) at home with her under “private” confinement (seems a little too convenient), which the judge (graying but hunky) agreed to (yeah, like that would happen in As the World Turns).  Commercial break.

I expected her to show up saying she's Destiny's real mother, not her mother's twin who died and came back to life after her contract negotiation.

My ex-husband entered and we had lunch while waiting for “A”.

I was exhausted by the time I got home–tired but not sleepy. That’s when my brain went traveling back to Destiny, et al.

If normal people behaved liked the characters on that “daytime drama” (or in Congress), we’d have anarchy. (I know I took a long time getting here, but I’m still reeling from yesterday’s traumas).

3 simple communication tips, based on my 10 minutes of daytime TV education:

  1. Turning away from the person you’re talking to will not make them listen harder.

    Done for dramatic camera effect on TV, it's plain creepy-rude in a real conversation.

  2. If you’re about to say something out loud that you’d only think when angry, alone and schnockered–shut up.

    Tell me I didn't just say that out loud.

  3. Throwing the past in someone’s face is not an act of love; it’s an act of shove (as in shoving your face in “it”). If you can’t resist sharing the “shove,” turn away silently, look toward the camera and fade to commercial.

Daytime TV can be educational after all, but I wouldn’t make a habit of watching it. Still, I wonder what will happen to Destiny’s Child?

Oops. Silly me. I'm easily confused.