Saturday, July 1, 2017

July 1, 2017

Dear Diary,

Saturday morning in the Clinton household just isn't what it used to be. Even though my mother warned me that it would stretch the seat of my pants suit, I could never resist a healthy breakfast of pancakes with plenty of maple syrup and powdered sugar, alongside a couple of eggs with that thick, brown gravy stuff oozing down the side.  We used to call it "comfort food," because it really packed on the padding and made sitting in the Laz-E-Boy recliner way more snug. When they invented remote controls for the TV, you didn't have to stop eating to change the channel.

Man, that was living!

Breakfast was always my favorite meal of the day as a child. Even on the weekends, we'd get up earlier than most folks, waiting for my dad to stumble in the back door from last night's bender. It was always such a joy to see him straggling in with the first rays of sunlight, ambling over to the table where the rest of us would clean his facial lacerations. Then he'd throw up a little bit before taking a nap.

These days, of course, I eat a much healthier diet. Dr. Morell insists I have something in my stomach at all times, otherwise the meds could make me poop or feel nauseous.  Also, I just can't wolf down a tall stack of plate-sized buttermilk flapjacks the way I used to. Your body changes over the years, and if it's one thing I've learned, it's that you have to listen to what your body is telling you.

Yesterday, for example, I .woke up hearing a loud, constant ringing in my ears, which was annoying to say the least. It only lasted a few minutes, but the ringing was intense enough that I had to call Bessie to help me out of bed. Then, as she helped me sit up, the ringing stopped -- just like that. Bessie said these things can come and go, but are perfectly normal and happen to everyone. Then she put the alarm clock back on the nightstand.

I'm much more in touch with my physical health now. Even the Secret Service goons detail remarked how I'm a lot less wobbly when they lift me into the black van.  Still on diapers 24/7, though.  That's how it is. One day at a time.

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