DAILY PROMPT: WALKING ON THE MOON
What giant step did you take where you hoped your leg wouldn’t break? Was it worth it, were you successful in walking on the moon, or did your leg break?
It’s Monday, clouds sit like a fire blanket poised to smother the first spark of joy, tomorrow I’ll drive 500km for the scalpel-to-the-eye job postponed from two weeks ago for reasons I’m sure I’ll never be told (did the surgeon develop palsy?) and you’re asking me to wax eloquent on the subject of risk.
I’d really rather not.
But then again, what the hell? The risks, after all, are minimal.
Despite a tendency in some of my children to spook themselves when I drive 500km on the open road, it’s not unreasonably risky. My car may be 17 years old, a bit battered and not blessed with power steering, but it’s mechanically fit (thank you SWR Tyrepower) and more solid than its younger brethren. The road is good these days, and the other idiots on it (yes, second daughter, I do notice your use of ‘other’) are reasonably well behaved provided you don’t travel at night, when anything goes among the heavy transports on ridiculous schedules. The main problem is boredom (and yes, son and third daughter, I know Bluetooth is standard in modern vehicles, but I don’t have $20,000 to shell out for the privilege of having it.)
So that’s the drive disposed of, what about the eye job? Cataracts are two-a-penny, I’m told, although these days it’s a helluva lot more pennies than that, might I say. Still, it’ll all be worth it. Funny, though. When I thought it was just a matter of new glasses, the fuzzy edges and unreadable words were an irritation I’d deal with when I had time. Now they’re a right bugger requiring constant use of the magnifying glass. Good thing I didn’t run with the idea of delaying the procedure until winter on account of missing good surf time. I’d have been blind as a bat by then.
Still, I’d rather stay home and sog.