Tears on the side
I’m not crying, really. That constant drip from one eye may look like tears, but it’s not quite the same thing.
I’m on a waiting list, for a corneal transplant. Not scheduled; when donor tissue is available, I will be contacted. Until then, my life is split into “good days” and “poor days”. Like today. There’s a slight degree of pain; every time I blink. There’s a strong desire to retire from the world, but that’s not a practical solution. Life goes on. The cornea, my original, is not pretty, and if I could figure out how to hold the eyelid up and the flashlight on, I’d try to take a picture. Just for reference, you understand. Meanwhile, there’s the tears. Emotionless but real. I wish for a better day, tomorrow.
On TV, a documentary about Hope For Wildlife, a sanctuary for crippled wild animals in Seaforth, NS. Up the shoreline from Halifax, according to the maps. They’re doing good work, albeit just a drop in the bucket. The arrival of mankind does not make life easier for the wildlife in a region. We’re not good neighbours. The refuge offers a chance for specific individual animals (not pets).
I completed the final assignment for my MOOC course dealing with entrepreneurship. Overall, I’m feeling content about my effort. The final mark will be excellent, and I’m better equipped, in vocabulary terms, to discuss the mystery of a business plan. This course was outside my comfort zone, as they say; the next one, form a school in Northern Ireland will put me back into the studio context where a business plan is a good idea but not part of the fun and games.
