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Thursday, June 10, 2010

Dotty Says, Home Sweet Home


He told me to dial 555-AlzheimersRead and make an appointment for a job interview. What the hell? I'm his mother doesn't that count for anything?

By Dorothy DeMarco
Alzheimer's Reading Room


We're back. Did you miss us? There is no place like home. I have to admit, I missed this joint.



Dotty Says, Home Sweet Home
I still can't figure out what is going on but we are back home. I thought maybe we got thrown out by the board of health. Or maybe, Bobby stopped paying the condominium association fees. I don't understand why we pay anyway.

Bobby says, I'm a champ. Big deal. You can't spend words.

While I was away, Bobby kept giving me these little bags of Lay's potato chips. Every time he gave me a bag he had to ask me, how are they? This is a dumb question, delicious of course.

I am getting a little worried about Bobby. He keeps asking me the same questions over and over. Why does he keep repeating himself? Should I be worried?

I can't understand why I am so tired. I came home and passed out. Why am I so tired?

I'm hungry. I wonder if I am going to get anything to eat in this joint?

Once again Booby took me to the doctor today. I'll never understand why I have to go to the doctor. There is nothing wrong with me. I'm a healthy old broad. The doctor must be making a fortune off me.

As usual, they start sticking needles in me and stealing my blood. I told them, I'll donate blood. Then they tell me I can't donate blood. If I can't donate blood, how is it they are always taking blood out of me for these so called tests? I might be old but that doesn't make me dumb.

Today I told Bobby I am going to get a job. He said, you'll need a resume. Big deal. If he gets off his computer  long enough I'll make a resume.

Then he asks if I want a job on the blog. What the hell is a blog?

He tells me he has an opening for a head of subscriber procurement. Here we go again, Bobby speaking in code.

So guess what? I told him, you pay me enough and I'll procure all the subscribers you want.

He told me to dial 555-AlzheimersRead and make an appointment for a job interview. What the hell? I'm his mother doesn't that count for anything?

Interview my ass. Where are those little bags of Lay's potato chips?

I missed you too.



Original content Dorothy DeMarco, the Alzheimer's Reading Room