Sometimes that's wonderful. I notice the microscopic changes my students are going through as they go through their fourteen-year-old growth spurts. Every bit of each of them changes. Every day. Except--they're just as nice as ever, every day. (Sometimes, the unchanging is as remarkable as the ever-changing.)
So I'm sitting right now on my front porch, waiting for the fellow who—allegedly—is coming to my house today to install my truck's hand controls, to bring an end to my non-automotively-enabled transportation-free life. An end to MS house arrest.
Except I don't know for sure if he's coming.
My driving trainer said he had talked to him, had told him to come today, sometime after noon (it's 12:45). I asked him before we parted company yesterday, "So... if I don't hear from you, it's on?" He said he'd e-mail me either way.
I haven't heard from him either.
Guys... Yeah, MS is a life of uncertainty. We should be used to it by now. I suppose I (sort of) am, it's something I have no choice but to work on every day.
But avoidable uncertainty? The uncertainty my neurology adds to my life is one thing, uncertainty that other people add to my life is another.
'Course, as far as I can tell, their lives are pretty full/over-committed/over-scheduled/beholden to things out of their control as mine has always been.
Oh well... as one of my friends who actually drives spacecraft likes to say--although he means it more mathematically, it means as much both inside and outside the mathematical context:
"Chaos is a bitch."