Ruined Showers; Times Before And At The Very Start Of Supergirl

So I still don't know when they're coming back.  That's good in the sense that I still have the house to myself and I still have the opportunity to go through my things (even though I probably won't).  The bad news is is that I was hoping they would come home to at least a semi-clean house, but that won't happen till they, well, come home.  In the meantime it's still hotter than hell outside so I have taken a shower in both the upstairs (Monday) and downstairs (last/Tuesday night) bathrooms, thus "ruining" their cleanliness.  They might be coming home to bathrooms as dirty as they were before ****e* came to clean it on Sunday.  And sure, she last came over in February, so everything needed a cleaning, but still.

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So I also sated my OCD/principles and watched Supergirl again last/Tuesday night, and this time I was able to get to the theater in time to see it from the start.  I timed the beginning of the movie to the point of the movie where I came in last week -- four minutes.  I missed the first four minutes of the movie.  If only I had gotten my ass out off the toilet just four minutes earlier, I wouldn't've needed to subject myself to this again.  However, one thing is irking me.  I timed the preview time, i.e. the listed showtime to the time when Supergirl actually started.  Backdating four minutes, the preview time of the film last week was 20 or 25 minutes.  When I went last/Tuesday night, 25 minutes had passed from the listed showtime and, I swear, they were still in previews.  So does the preview time change from week to week?  I thought preview times shortened the longer a movie runs in theaters because fewer and fewer people pay for tickets to see it and therefore it doesn't make sense to show trailers of upcoming films for fewer and fewer eyeballs.  You mean to tell me that if I were running as late as I was last week to watch Supergirl this week, I would've made it to the start??  (Oh, by the way, last week I also watched Toy Story 5, and even though I was running 20-5 minutes late again, I got to my seat just as that film was about to begin.  To avoid getting bored by trailers, I will keep skirting preview times.)  

On the bright side, it wasn't a chore to see it a second time.  Knowing the general outline of what was going to happen next helped me understand the plot of the movie better.  Sure, it's not as if Supergirl is a deep film, but you know how confusing mass-market movies are these days.  And it wasn't the worst thing in the world to see.  I give it a, oh, B-/C+.

This Stripper Really Loves Me

So I made it to a stripper party last/Friday night.  I wish I could say I was more relaxed, but the stripper I was with really took things in stride.  She's a really cool chick.  I hope to get with her again soon.

I was planning on going home because I was, well, spent.  But *****y, even though she wasn't technically hosting (*****a was because it was her birthday), she wouldn't let me leave until I stayed there for a while longer.  *****a had made me a strong frozen margarita a few hours before, and *****y didn't want me to just drive off.  Now, this is not the first time *****y has asked me not to leave so soon after a house party.  Also, and make of this what you wish, I felt fine driving home.  (She has continually said to other strippers working parties I've been to that I don't drink much.  I don't know when I should tell her that, uh, isn't quite the case ... which makes me think I should cut down on the drinking, but that should is a blog post for another time.)  But like the first time she asked, I was struck by this stripper, the ethos of whom I normally associate with being a free spirit, and with acting with wild abandon, being so concerned about me, let alone anyone.

*****y gave me a bottle of water and told me to stay, so I just drank water and doomscrolled.  After an hour of this (again, I was all tapped out, so I didn't have any fun with the other strippers there), I thought I was good to go.  She let me go, but she insisted on me texting her once I got home.  Now, don't tell her, I went to Chick-Fil-A first because I had an urge for a peach milkshake.  But then I got home, and I got home in one piece.  And when my cellphone picked up my house wi-fi, there waiting was a message from *****y asking me if I got home safely.

Yes, our relationship is built on sex work.  I cannot deny that when we always "hang out," money changes hands.  But that shows me that *****y loves me.  I am absolutely convinced of that.  You do not go out of your way to prevent someone from getting into an accident, and then proactively text someone whether he got home safe, if you don't love him.  Now, I know she's not in love with me; it's not like that, and I don't think it can be like that.  But our relationship, and I can't think of a better term to call it, has become different over the many, many years I have known and, well, gotten serviced by her.  This is not meaningless.  The concern for my well-being she showed me yesterday is something by which I am deeply moved.  And I guess I am still processing all that.

Ironically, I could see My Mother doing this same thing to me (not at a house party like this, of course), to which I would probably scream at her, "You're suffocating me!!!!!!!!!!"  But I don't feel that way from *****y.  Probably because *****y isn't My Mother who has confused me whenever she hasn't psychologically tortured me all my life.  Plus, I've seen *****y naked ... and I quite love seeing her naked!

Planning World Cup Viewing Where

I have gotten obsessed with arranging my free time around the World Cup the five weeks it's going on.  I shouldn't, considering that this World Cup is being (mainly) hosted by a fascist country.  Also, it's become even more obvious that FIFA is a corrupt organization that continues to get away with suckering communities into giving them money in exchange for the right to host the biggest sporting event on the planet this side of the Olympics.  No wonder, then, that the president of FIFA, Gianni Infantino, gave Trump a made-up-on-the-spot "peace prize" just to kiss his ass, one grifter publicly proclaiming his love to another grifter.  The business side of this soccer festival should make one's stomach turn.  However, since I am plotting how I will watch as much of it as I can proves I have overlooked this evil sausage-making and, in turn, makes me complicit.

Well, my complicit ass is still going to watch, and figure out the best way to watch while balancing things such as my checkbook, the health of my car, going to my storage unit to go through my stuff (which is really chapping my ass right now the more I think about it), and just going home and relaxing.  A part of me truly relishes how to put the pieces together, but a part of me knows this can easily overwhelm me, and another part of me knows I'm capable of just saying "fuck it" and I'll completely forget all of this.

Regardless, right now I'm planning ... but only for next week.  I am trying to do the following:

• Have one day where I go work, then directly go home.  I will watch all the Games from home and eat in, and thus I will not spend any money;
• I will go out and watch at least one soccer Match at a bar or establishment boasting about televising the World Cup;
• I will go out and watch at least one soccer Match at a Mexican or Latin American restaurant that has a TV and may or may not be televising the World Cup;
• I will go from work to my storage unit, where I will spend at least the majority of one soccer Game listening to it on Sirius XM while going through my stuff.  I will not spend any money and instead go straight home after the Match is over;
• Oh, and I promised ******a that I would see her at the strip club one night.

My original guiding principle on which weekdays I'd do each of the above depended on whether I could watch the Match on FOX/Channel 9.  If it wasn't on there, I figured that wasn't a day I should just go home; either I would watch at a pub or restaurant that had Fox Sports 1, or listen to it on satellite radio at my storage unit.  But then I remembered that Telemundo is over the air and is airing every single Match on free TV, albeit in Spanish.  Soccer is universal, so watching any Game from home was back on the table.

But then I saw last/Friday night's South Korea-Czechia Match, and for some dumb reason the audio and video were out of synch.  I'm hoping it's a one-time glitch, because if it's not, I won't watch Telemundo anymore ... which might actually make planning easier because it removes the possibility that I could watch any Game at home.  Fix this, Telemundo.

Another consideration I, um, considered is the quality of the sides playing.  I want to see competitive Matches, and once the final roundelay of Games comes around, the stakes are going to influence which ones I watch and thus where.  But the field for the World Cup has expanded from 36 to 48.  That means a lot of new teams -- and a bunch of teams that are not good and should get easily dispatched in the Games they play.  Also, there is a fifth round of Knockout Stage Matches now, which means 32 teams will advance out of the Group Stage.  Allowing 2/3 of the field into the "playoffs" makes the "regular season" Group Stage Games somewhat less important, even if the final Group Stage Games will determine who comes in last in each Group and thus is automatically eliminated.

The more I think about it, the more I've decided that I want to dedicate my attention to matchups that feature good XI's or countries that appear to be evenly matched.  If there's a Game that doesn't satisfy either condition, I am beginning to think it wouldn't be the worst thing in the world to only tune in to it in the middle of the Match, or even, for example, bail on the Game and leave an establishment early.  It is hard to eat out at a restaurant for two hours so you can watch a whole Game.  And speaking of whole Games ... I realized that when I get out of work each day will dictate whether I go home, my unit, or out to watch.  Do I want to go out to catch the back end of a lopsided Match between two nations that have no chance of winning the World Cup?  Maybe, actually, and I'll save the days I go directly home for when I am able to watch a good Game on paper in its entirety.

You can see how I am weighing a lot of things, right?  Yeah, maybe I'm overthinking this.  But I don't want to spend money I can't afford, I want to start eating the food at home that I've bought, I don't want to tax my car, and I do want to start cleaning up my stuff.  So, considering all of that ... I still don't know.  Guess the only really important thing to me is I just want to watch some soccer.

Car Fluids Spoil??

Yesterday I learned that motor oil goes bad if you don't use it after a certain point.  You know, maybe I should've known better, but I thought that motor oil, you know, never goes bad.

That may be why the big jug of oil Father used never seemed to work when I put it in my car.  The level on my dipstick never went up, and if I didn't put in more soon after I put in some, I felt enormous stress that I should.  It seems as though I never have an issue seeing the oil level in my engine go up after I use one of the newer quart bottles I have in the back of my car.

But I continue to look through the Internet for tips on using motor oil that's been lying around.  I've seen sites that say that you should dump motor oil if it's been open for year, others two years, still others five.  I was of the mind of giving the leftover oil in our garage to the county hazardous waste site, but some corners of the World Wide Web say I can still use it.  So, what's the correct answer?

And I did more research and discovered that the coolant I lug around in my car also expires.  Do I need to get rid of that, too??

Damn, this is getting confusing, and expensive.

On Money -- When I Spend It And When I Complain About Spending It

So work yesterday/Friday ended at 2.  Missed the regulation Game (Germany doubled up Denmark and thus will stay up in the Top Division), but saw Switzerland come from behind in The Second Period and defeat Czechia in the 3:30 Game I was able to buy a ticket and make it to, then (with a ticket I already bought, not at work less than two hours before puck drop like the Czechs-Swiss Game) witnessed Canada crush Slovakia in the 7:30 Game, 7-1.

I got a ticket for the 3:30 matchup on a scalper site for $18 or so.  I was curious, so Thursday I checked prices for the 7:30 Game.  I bought one just before the tournament started for ... um, just under $70, I think.  I assumed that that Game would feature Canada, and that Canadians would swoop in from up north to see this Quarterfinal matchup.  I bought it before the tournament because the prices were starting to rise after falling a bit, and I was afraid that Canada fans would finally snatch them up thinking that they would be seeing their team.  What I forgot to factor in was Trump wanting to annex the entire nation.  That idiotic talk convinced many Canadians to not vacation in the U.S.  I remember hearing so many resorts and convention bureaus say that the number of Canadians vacationing in their cities and towns have plummeted.  I remember this now, but I didn't remember it when I bought that ticket.  (That's probably due to all the bullshit coming from that asshole's mouth; you forgot the crap he said because he constantly says new crap.  Apparently, it's a strength of his.)  So I checked Thursday and I could get in for about $39.  Dammit.  Well, I chalked this mistake up to our dumbass President and the fact that this is the World Juniors we're talking about; I don't mind paying a premium for an event I probably will never attend again even though it turns out I overspent by about $31.

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So I blog posted on here before about buying World Juniors merchandise, and about whether I wanted to buy at Mariucci Arena, the pop-up store at the Mall Of America, or both.  There were a lot of things I tried to consider about whether and what to buy, all of it leading me to a web of confusion.  Foremost among them was price, of course, but another thing was scarcity, in particular whether an item is only in one place.  And I think my OCD kicked in, because I got really, really obsessed over that when I went to Mariucci yesterday/Friday to watch the Games.

When I went down to the Megamall last Saturday, I hemmed and hawed about several items I saw down there.  Eventually I decided not to buy the big tickets items, such as jerseys and hooded sweatshirts.  They were oversized and they had designs that I wasn't too keen about.  Oh, and the price, of course.

I bought two medium size t-shirts of the same design.  It was important to me to at least buy anything World Juniors-related that had the official 2026 IIHF World Juniors logo and the flags of the ten countries competing.  I also bought two because of my OCD: The plan is to wear one and to keep one for storage for ... I don't know what.  Anyway, I bought a pair.  I also bought a scarf which, sad to say, I forgot to wear Friday to Mariucci when I planned on doing so.

But back to the t-shirts.  I don't necessarily regret buying them, but I recognized the style of that t-shirt when I was going through the merch store at Mariucci.  I was afraid that they would have sold out at the arena, and that's why I bought it down in Bloomington, but it isn't "special" because I saw it at MOA and Mariucci.  On the other hand, there were many, and I mean many, items at the pop-up that I didn't remember seeing at the arena.

I went into the merch store before the Czechia-Switzerland Game to buy my stuff before the Canadians did.  I wouldn't say it was cleaned out, but compared to what I saw on Boxing Day, they went through a lot of stuff.  However, and damn my fuzzy memory, even though there were several items there that I didn't see down in Bloomington, I think I'm right in thinking there is more "unique" stuff down at the Mall Of America than at the store in Mariucci.

And yet ... the things I saw in Mariucci that I don't recall seeing at MOA I pretty much bought.  At first I got a winter hat with the logo stitched on it (I know I didn't see that at the Megamall) and a logo pin (don't recall seeing it at MOA, but it's a small pin, so I could've missed it).  But during the first two periods of the Czechia-Switzerland Game I was debating about whether to buy more stuff.  Well, I save a lot of money because my parents buy all the food we eat, so I indulged myself.  At the Second Intermission, I went back into the merch store and bought a light blue hoodie with just the big logo in front (I don't think they have that one at the Megamall ... do they?) and two more t-shirts.  This one design has the logo in the front and the flags of the ten countries in the back along with Paul Bunyan as a hockey player and Babe The Blue Ox as a Goaltender.  I liked the Minnesota tie-in.  And I know I did not see this particular t-shirt at MOA.

I have dropped about $200 in World Juniors-branded clothing.  I don't think I have spent so much money in memorabilia for a single sporting event.  There have been other big sporting events I've attended ... well, actually I worked a Super Bowl and a Final Four.  I don't know how ethical it would've been to buy stuff, especially I was, you know, supposed to be working.  But for the World Juniors I'm a fan, and like I said, I have money, so I am getting all this.

And dammit ... my OCD wants me to go back to the Mall Of America a third time to go into that pop-up store to look one more time at the "exclusive" stuff it turns out I could only buy there.  In particular there was this orange quarter-zip that had the logo blown up and in contrast in the back.  Now I feel bad that I didn't buy it then.  But that pop-up store closes either tomorrow/Sunday or Monday, and now I feel compelled to buy that -- or, if that's gone, maybe something else I can only get there.  I had plans to just go home immediately after the Vikings Game, but this is the World Juniors, so I've decided I can alter my plans, cut out early from U. S. Bank Stadium, drive down there before the mall closes, and take out my credit card to buy stuff marking this once-in-a-lifetime event ...

... unless there's nothing there for me to buy and/or it's too expensive and/or all the stuff there I saw at Mariucci, in which case it would be a waste of time but whatever, I need to see for myself.  And this is where I catch myself not being frugal.  I'll spend (or fritter away) money if it's for a big sporting event and if I think the stuff I can buy is "special."  And I will beat myself up after the fact when I begin to doubt whether it is "special."  My goodness, I can't buy anything without a tinge of regret.

Addendum To: Why Doesn't My Sister Just Fuckin' Have My Car, Huh?!

Yesterday/Monday morning I woke up early, or tried to wake up early, to see if I moved all my stuff from my car to the minivan, which I planned to take to work because, again, it looked as though I would have to use the van from today/Tuesday through Friday, so what the hell, why don't I just use the van all week?

As I was leaving, I see My Father putting his shoes on.  Where's he going?  A doctor's appointment, I would learn later.  He didn't tell me this anytime it would have been useful to me; guess I know from whom I get my propensity to keep secrets.  Anyway, it looked as though he planned on using the minivan.  Mother was up at the time and tried to ask him if he should use the car instead, which led to him just bolting out the door, which led to her telling me to tell him if I wanted to use the van instead, which led to me kind of yelling at her that that's exactly what I was fucking doing.

I stopped Father in time to look into the van.  It was clean; I didn't remember, but apparently on Saturday night, I did take time after I came back from the Game I was watching to put all my stuff back into my car.  (Remember, all that stuff about planning on using the minivan all week wasn't a thought in my head until Sunday, when my sister said that she was taking the car tomorrow/Wednesday to meet her friend for dinner.)  Meanwhile, My Father got into the minivan and peeled off to the doctor's like he just robbed a bank; I don't remember the last time he took off for anywhere that fast.

So, I used my car yesterday/Monday.  And it turns out I will be using it tomorrow/Wednesday, as well.  My sister told me that the dinner her friend wants to set up changed from tomorrow/Wednesday to today/Tuesday.  Also, Father has another doctor's appointment then.  So that means that after I come back from work tonight/Tuesday night I'll have to move all my stuff from the minivan into my car (I have already put all the stuff I'll need for work today/Tuesday in the minivan).  And then after work tomorrow/Wednesday, I'll have to move all my stuff from my car into the minivan, which I will use to get to work Thursday and Friday.

Man, life will be so much simpler once everybody leaves.

Turns Out I'm Doing Nothing For Halloween

I always go out on Halloween.  I don't go out for Halloween, mind you; I find something to do to avoid the trick-or-treaters.  I've done it so long it's become routine to just stay out after work.

I was making plans to go out tonight/Friday night/Halloween when I asked my sister if she wanted to do anything.  She decided she wouldn't go because she feels she needs to take care of Mother, who is still recuperating from surgery.  And you know, that totally makes sense.  We two can't just go out and do something on a Friday night three days after our mom went under the knife.  So I then thought I would just do something by myself, like get a massage or go to a movie.  But then I realized Mother still was hurt, so maybe I should come back home after work -- you know, just because.  And so I will.

Won't enjoy it.  Beyond not having a Friday night to myself, I am scared that trick-or-treaters will still ring the doorbell at my house.  I assume that my parents make sure no one comes knocking by turning off all the lights and staying in their bedroom.  But My Mother can't do that.  She is supposed to walk around the house to build up strength in her new knee.  That obviously means the lights in the house have to be on, and I'm scared some dumb or overeager kids will see that as a sign we have candy.  I would rather not be around for that awkwardness, but alas, I will be around in case that happens, unfortunately.

So My Father asked me to help him find where the spark plug is on the snowblower, even though 1) he didn't ask me to help him find that before, so I assumed he knew where it was and 2) it's summer so who cares.  But I had time before going to the soccer Match, so I wanted to help him.

Little did I know he roped me into doing other shit.  After I showed him the disassembled housing to show him where the spark plug is, he wanted me to mow the lawn.  I looked at the lawn; it didn't need mowing.  But he wanted me to do it ... but first, it was time to put the new belt onto the mower.  We (well, he; I just stood on the handle to keep the front side lifted up so Father could work on getting the worn out belt loose) worked on that for between 60-75 minutes before we (actually I) got the new belt in ... but Father said he needs to find a screw before he can completely put it back together.

And then, dammit, we went back to the snowblower, which was still disassembled.  He wanted to take out the spark plug, but it took us half an hour to do so -- but, Father noticed that the spark plug was completely unscrewed, so it is very possible Father managed to unscrew the thing, like, five minutes in but he didn't even notice.  Whatever.

So he makes me look at the spark plug.  "So," I said, "You want me to buy it now?"  And Father replied, "No, whenever you want.  You have to go somewhere, don't you?"  What was this all for if he didn't want to complete the job right then and there?  Where was the urgency in all of this, and why was now nothing at all urgent once we did only part of the work on the mower and the snowblower?  He said he wanted me to take a look at what model spark plug it was.  But I already knew.

So now, Father doesn't need me to mow the lawn because, I guess, it doesn't work.  Or maybe he wanted to jerk my chain all along and just wanted to have some father-son time, or something?

Anyway, I need to take a nap before going to the Game.  Don't know what this was all for.

May Have Crossed A (Time) Line I Shouldn''t Have Crossed At Work

This has never been spelled out as official or even common policy, but from what I have been told in the (way) past and from what I have been able to get away with, whenever there is work to be done that needs to be done but can't be done within your usual eight-hour work shift, you can stay up to two hours, or (duh) ten hours.  Because work in The Third Department has been kicking my ass ever since the holidays, I've done ten hours frequently.  Lately, the work hasn't been done within ten hours, so I've left it for the next day and, sometimes, for the person doing in position for me.

Regardless, for many, many years now, I have held that ten-hour overtime standard as sacrosanct, a sort of demilitarized zone.  Not that I've never crossed it; I think I have pulled in way more than ten hours on a couple occasions, although those were under extremely unforeseen circumstances, and I may have clocked out a minute after ten hours once or twice.  But it's pretty much a no-go, a line you don't you don't come back from.  Since the New Year, even if the work has been overwhelming, I have swallowed my pride, resigned myself that I couldn't accomplish all that I wanted to accomplish, and packed up and left at exactly ten hours.

Till yesterday/Friday.  There were tests I needed to prepare.  A lot of them, and that has been a major contributing factor to me staying late whenever I'm in The Third Department.  I have been trying my best to get through them quicker, but I have been making very little progress.  I remember that on Thursday, there was a test that had me so confused that I needed to talk to someone three times to figure out what to do.  I want to say that I spent at least 45 minutes on it, but it could have been an hour.  That was incredibly frustrating, and typical of my problems in trying to get through these tests.  Now add that lately there's been at least half a dozen of them every day I work in The Third Department and that they come in during the afternoon, and you can see how that pushes my day past eight hours.

That happened yesterday/Friday.  However, the tests that I prepared this time around actually were easy, at least easier compared to the ones I usually encounter.  I got through them faster than I usually do.  And that, to be honest, kind of gave me a rush.  It made me feel as though I finally "got it," that I in fact have "mastered" how to do them.

And then I remembered that I have all these other things that should be done before I leave for the day, and that I have, oh, less than an hour to do them.  I still felt good, however; those half dozen or so tests I thought would have consumed the rest of my ten hours, and there would have been a lot of hell to pay by my supervisor and boss for not getting to the other tasks they say should be done.  But I had time yesterday/Friday, and so I delved into that work ... and then my ten hours were getting close to being up, and I wasn't quite finished.  And then I saw a mistake that I needed to fax out again and, after deciding that fax could be done by my co-worker tomorrow, I changed my mind and thought it best I do it -- knowing that would probably push me past ten hours.

And it did.  I clocked out ten hours and ten minutes after work began.  Now, you may say what's the big deal, it's just ten minutes.  Like I have blog posted before, neither of my superiors have lately took me to task for staying an extra couple hours.  Heck, before she left work yesterday/Friday, my supervisor said I shouldn't go past ten hours.  However, I can see, from their vantage point, me staying an extra ten minutes is, to put it in a way, overtime creep.  I should tell you that on Monday, I overstayed my lunch break by ten minutes because I didn't set the alarm on my phone correctly and overslept.  The policy at that point is to stay as long as you overstayed your lunch break.  Well, I did that and worked ten hours total and still clocked out a few minutes later than that because I needed to tie up loose ends.  My supervisor and boss will know that I did that Monday, stayed a few minutes further than that yesterday/Friday, and start to question how long I am staying for OT, and why.

This all could change, and soon.  Next week everyone one of us are supposed to have a meeting about The Third Department, with a goal of getting enough of the work done each day so that no one is taking overtime.  I don't see how that is possible without a second person working in The Third Department at least half the day, but that is my boss' goal.  Maybe what I did this week is a sign to him that changes to this department can't come soon enough.  And maybe this will accelerate scrutiny of my work day and work processes.  Which would suck because, all the stress this job is putting me through aside, I do love making OT money.  I checked my bank account and saw that my latest paycheck is significantly bigger than the one before it.  Will this money train stop?

And Now The Black Cloud Descends On Our Nation

I do feel a palpable dread from the correct-minded people of this nation now.  It has animated my anxiety and a lot of my short temper since November, but now that it's finally "here," I feel my sadness, anger an bitterness runneth over.

The thing I am still trying to reconcile is that, if I recall correctly, I felt things were going to be just as bad eight years ago.  Why is everything worse now?  Well, we correct-minded people really thought that our fellow Americans would remember the facts that he was convicted of multiple felonies, was called a rapist by a judge, acted like a petty asshole who talks like someone who has Alzheimer's and thought, "Yeah, I want more of that good shit," or didn't care enough to vote.  Our fellow Americans seem to be OK with liars and grifters and people who break the law.  And all of us who hated what we went through cannot deal with how we'll have to deal with all that bullshit again.

I see a meme on social media likening the second TFG's administration to watching the second plane hit the other Twin Tower.  That's totally apt.  The first time we were so confused as to what's going on.  Now?  We now know what's about to happen.  And we're terrified.

I hope that I have the courage and the resilience to resist more than I did the last time.  It'll be very, very hard doing so with the knowledge that there are Enemies Among Us who prefer dictatorship over democracy, and want to kiss the ass of a con man.  But soldier on I must.

My Christmas Tradition Going By The Wayside (?)

One of the traditions I keep for myself is going occurs on Christmas Eve.  I go to the Mall Of America and eat lunch at Hooters, hopefully seeing that really cute blond who's been there for years.  I then go to Southdale, and I make sure I lap every single level of the mall.  Finally, I drop by The Cheesecake Factory attached to Southdale and get a few slices of cheesecake, one of which I eat the next day (Christmas Night), the others when I can.

I didn't do it last year.  Christmas Eve 2023 fell on a Sunday, and I was working a Vikings Game.  I could have fought traffic to at least get to The Cheesecake Factory, but ultimately I didn't think it was worth it.  Besides, I had already "broken" this tradition the year before because I was in Hawai'i taking a vacation with my family.  I don't quite remember if I was able to do all three things in 2021, and I think I did do all three things in 2020, even though we were still in the middle of the pandemic and there was no vaccine to at least guard me against COVID-19.  And beyond all that, the first "tradition" of going to Hooters isn't something I have steadfastly done every year since I started.

So I guess I am confessing that these aren't time-worn traditions that I would move heaven and earth to make sure I do.  And that is the blase attitude I have going into Christmas Eve today.  I'm not sure I can do any of the three "traditions."  In fact, I don't think I will.  I did not ask to take the day or even the afternoon off (like I did in 2020, at least according to my Franklin Planner).  And with this new crush of forms we're getting because another lab decided to shut down, things are going berserk in The Fourth Department, where I will be all week (besides tomorrow/Wednesday/Christmas Day, of course).  I remember years past where I was in The Main Department and things were so meager that we were dismissed really early.  Because of the confusion and dot-connecting we need to do with these new forms coming from this closed lab, I know we won't get to leave early.  In fact, there's a real good chance I'll be staying late, like I have ever since this lab shut down.  I know that The Cheesecake Factory will have different hours from Southdale, which will close at 5.  While I may have gone to get cheesecake and not walked around the mall in years past, I cannot imagine doing one without the other.  Then again, I considered doing it last year after the Vikings Game.  Once again, I'm admitting my "traditions" are pretty fungible.

Ah, to heck with it.  If by some miracle we get done by, say, noon, I'm doing everything.  If it gets to, like, 2 or 3, it's off to Southdale.  Any later and I don't know if trying makes any sense.  I'm guessing I won't be leaving work till way past then.  Nope, I might get some fast food and go home ... before leaving late in the evening to head off to the only place I know in the Twin Cities that is open late on Christmas Eve.  I have gone to this place to drink their scotch and whiskey for several years now, and even though I skipped this two years ago, I have committed to doing this moreso than the Hooters/Southdale/Cheesecake Factory roundelay.  Yeah, gotta admit that this is my Christmas tradition! 

I have self-imposed a rule that I cannot blog post no sooner than eight hours apart.  I want my most recent blog post to have some time in the spotlight, so to speak.  But I want to go to bed now while making sure I have at least the blog post for today in the can, so I just want to say that I have spent the past half-hour trying to add another Blogger blog on my "Reading List" on my homepage and I don't think I did it, and I don't know how in the hell I can add it.  In that sense, Blogger is not so user-friendly, dang it.

Thirty-Four Years Ago Tonight, I Discovered I Had Hair Around My Dick

I have wanted to blog post about this for so long, but I only wanted to do so on the anniversary, and every time it rolled around, I forgot.  I forgot late last night when I spontaneously decided to blog post about how I'm years behind balancing my checkbook.  Well, it's time to talk about it now.

So yeah, January 10, 1990 ... I remember sitting on the toilet, either going #1 or #2, and scratching my groin.  Naturally I looked down ... and, by God, I saw hairs surrounding my dick.  I was only 13 at the time, and I remember being absolutely terrified at the changes to my body.  I think I was beginning to get obsessed with hairs underneath my arms.  I was really frightened by all the hairs that were starting to appear on my legs, and I spent many a time plucking them out.  My trichotillomania was a bid to stop my body from rebelling against me.  I had heard of this concept called "adolescence" as soon as I started 7th grade, but I didn't pay any attention to sex ed class at school, so I learned about what was about to happen to me through friends and classmates.  And it scared the shit out of me.  So I vainly hoped to remain looking like the same person I have gotten used to by plucking the fuck out of myself.

But the hair around my cock?  Don't know what I could do about that.  It's not as if I could pluck all those hairs down there; it'd hurt like hell.  I don't know if I saw any dick fur in any of the porn I saw up to that point, but I heard about pubes before I got them myself.  No, I was not happy, nor proud that I was "becoming a man."  It was the most glaring sign yet that my body was transforming, and in ways that metaphorically dropped me to my knees in fear and sadness and helplessness.  It was already a hopeless task to pluck all the hairs on my legs and in my pits.  I just knew, once I felt my hair down there, that it was game over for me.

You know, my body is changing in ways I don't understand now, too, just in a different way.  Well, I understand why it's changing now -- I'm getting older and I'm not totally watching my diet.  That's why my belly has been getting bigger and bigger over the course of the past two decades, and why pants that used to fit me just fine I am now straining to suck my gut in to, then fearing that the button will pop out and fly across the room.  (That's happened once or twice to me already.)  But I am not confused about what is happening to me now like I was then.  Just resigned.

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By the way, I am absolutely certain that in prime time that night, I was watching an episode of Quantum Leap (The Original Series staring Scott Bakula, not the revival that's on right now of which I have seen  only a minute) that mirrored my "discovery" later that night.  Bakula leaped into the body of a mother whose son is running away because he didn't know what his body was doing -- maybe.  In one scene, Bakula was captured by a group of random men, and one of them tore open the front of "his" dress.  I'm sure Bakula got out of it without getting assaulted.  Anyway, the theme of changing and sexualizing bodies became apt for me that evening when I relieved myself in the bathroom.  And it hit me like a ton of bricks, and I have never, ever been the same ever, ever again.

Worst Day At Work. Ever.

I should have known that last week, where I worked in The Fourth Department and somehow left after eight hours all four workdays (Monday was Labor Day), was too good to be true.  I was hoping beyond hope that I had turned a corner when it came to work.  Sure, my boss was pissing me off about overtime, but he seems to have backed off.  And frankly, it has been a relief to come home "when I'm supposed to."

That was all blown to shit yesterday/Monday.  I really don't know what happened since the number of forms, while extremely high, was not an amount I hadn't seen before.  But it was a combination of going through all of those plus answering phones plus dealing with other weird shit plus another batch of stuff that came through in the afternoon (something, I realized, that didn't happen in any of the four days I worked last week -- a big reason, I also realized, why I left work on time last week) that I could not finish all the forms that came in before my self-imposed deadline of two extra hours of overtime only.  This is the first time that has happened to me since the early days of working in The Fourth Department.  Then, I was about to throw the monitors against the wall because I was so goddamned overwhelmed with figuring out just what the hell I was supposed to do to get all the information I need to get.  Yesterday I knew how get all the information; I was just ... overwhelmed.

I'm kind of embarrassed that I didn't finish all the stuff that fell into my lap.  I now pride myself for being able to at least touch every form that came in that day at least once, even if I have to work late.  But ... shit, man, there was just a lot.  Thing is, the morning couldn't have started off better.  Maybe there was one answer that came in over the weekend I dealt with top of the morning, and there were very few forms I needed to work on again.  I got into the new work 90 minutes into my day.  I thought I would be able to get through whatever came at me because I was starting the new stuff so early.  But I took a huge gulp at the pile of crap that waited for me from the weekend, and the other shit just kind of fucked me over through the rest of the day.  At lunch I called Father and told him I would be home at 7, the latest I would be home if I were going straight from work to home.  That was around 2:30.  I usually don't know how my afternoon is going to work out at that time; for all I know, things could settle down and I could leave earlier than I feared.  But I knew, based on the mountain of work I still had to tackle after lunch because of everything else I needed to deal with first, that that wasn't going to fucking happen.  And goddammit, I was right.

I got so stressed and anxious and upset as 6:30 crept closer that I developed a new knot, one up against the left side of my neck, that was getting really distracting.  I was scared that I wouldn't be able to clock out at 6:30 because I was balancing getting as much of the work as I could done and making sure I not only did all my end-of-day stuff but also cleaned out the Internet browsers and tidied up the workspace by 6:30.  I had to cut it off with several forms left over.  I needed to cut it a tad shorter than I would have because I needed to clean up because I am not working today/Tuesday.  Turns out, I now realize, I don't think I did a great job of cleaning up the workspace.  I did remember to apologize to my supervisor for leaving her all this work, however.

Hope she's not mad.  Hope my boss isn't mad, either.  I really hope he doesn't fuckin' ask me why I stayed ten hours and still couldn't get all my shit done.  If he accuses me of just sloughing off ... man, I don't know what I'll do.  I was working my ass off, man, really.  What really pisses me off was the helplessness I felt yesterday afternoon.  I thought I had overcome all my feelings of abandonment and confusion once I started "getting" The Fourth Department.  But by sheer tonnage, I was back to feeling besieged.  I hope I don't get that goddamn feeling again when I go back to work tomorrow/Wednesday, and I hope I don't get any blowback for the decisions I made in doing the best I could yesterday/Monday.

My Psychiatrist Is ... Starting To Be Annoying

I haven't spoken to my therapist in quite a long while, at least a couple months.  I want to.  Really, I do.  But work has been a bear.  Whenever I work at a position other than The Main Department, I don't get out of work before a time where it seems reasonable to have a session with your psychologist, either in-person or (ever since the pandemic began) over the phone.  And I have not been in The Main Department much or at all in the past, oh, several months.  Co-worker absences also necessitate me working in general.  One of my co-workers had emergency surgery and literally is in traction for another month.  And I am in The Fourth Department all this week instead of just Monday and Tuesday because a co-worker has a family emergency spring up.

So I haven't had time to speak to him.  I guess it would be a little frustrating on his end that we do not have a set schedule.  And yet, it has been a little ... concerning to see him react by reaching out to me -- even when I have not scheduled a session with him.

I had a couple days off last week.  (These were planned in advance of my co-worker's surprise surgery, so even though they could have used the manpower, I decided to keep my staycation.)  That was the perfect time to speak with my shrink.  I set something up with his assistant.  We agreed upon a time: Last Thursday at 1.  So, after I ate al fresco at Centro and wound up at Glam Doll, I set up the shades in my car and waited for him to ring in.

And I waited.  And I waited.  I waited about an hour before I decided not to wait any longer.  It's not as if I had concrete plans, but as a general rule, I'm not going to wait for anyone for a long time if we had a set time we would meet.  Hey, I wanted to try Eat Street Crossing.  So I did.  And that's when my psychiatrist called.  Now, I could have just sat there and started talking to him.  I didn't have much to do.  But this is a therapy session, so I don't know if I want to blab my innermost secrets out on a patio, and besides, it gets noisy outdoors.  More than that, I thought I had given him enough time to call.  And I didn't feel obligated to delay any plans I conjured up in my head because he was late, however trivial those plans are.  So I told him I was busy and I'll speak to him later.

Later, turns out, was the next afternoon.  I really do want to talk with him, so I moved an optometrist appointment and exercise around to be at a park Friday at 3.  I think the woods are secluded enough to take in a therapy session over the phone.  But once again, he didn't call.  And as I think I have said from time to time here at WAF, lately he has been rather flighty with calling in at our supposedly-scheduled dates.  I don't understand what's going on.

What really scares and bugs me, however, is that, out of the blue, he called Tuesday afternoon.  I didn't pick up because I was at work.  But I think he knows that I have a daytime job.  I'm not completely convinced he confused Tuesday at 1 with last Thursday at 1.  He is getting up there in age, and I'm afraid I can't rule out cognitive issues.  And if he did know that we didn't schedule a time to talk Tuesday afternoon and just wanted to talk anyway, well, that's quite creepy.  I have spoken about his recent propensity to blur the boundary being doctor and patient.  Calling me up whenever to talk about whatever is a further trespass.  I don't know what to make of it, but I don't like it.

I am still trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.  With no regular time to meet (and we haven't had one really since before the pandemic started), I am not in a position to pass judgement on when my psychotherapist should talk to me, and I don't think I can be too upset that he wants to talk to me when I say that I want to talk to him.  But at the same time, I don't think it's too much to ask to call when I, you know, schedule a call.

So how come he can't call when I want him to, and he does call when I don't want him to?  This has gotten really annoying, to the point where I don't really look forward to speaking with him, at least now.  I am scared that he no longer sees this relationship as a professional one that requires boundaries.  I confide in him, I have told him things I haven't told anybody else, but that doesn't mean I want to shoot the bull whenever I'm bored.  I'm starting to believe he thinks we can, and that I want to.  That's ... not the case.  And now I don't feel like talking to him, about that or, really, anything else, for that matter.

So I Won Something!

I keep to my usual routine of complaining about stuff, and I'll get back to that in short order.  But I have to admit yesterday/Monday was a good day.  That's because I won something at work.

We were celebrating ourselves as a company, and so we were given raffle tickets to enter to win one of seven prizes.  From what I hear, the most intriguing prize was a portable fire grill.  And I got it!  Now, I don't know how to use it, even after seeing a couple videos on it.  And even if I do learn how to use it, I don't know when I would use it; I don't go camping, and I can't see myself taking it with me on a hike, which is one of the occasions the company that sells this says one can use it.

No matter.  I won it, and since I think a lot of other people wanted it and didn't win it, this portable fire pit, which I may never even open, has tremendous value to me right now.  This win strokes my ego.  It might even justify my existence.

Addendum To: The Real Reason For The Rattling And Squealing, And I Am Ashamed

You know, come to think of it, I had trouble gauging my oil level in my old car, too.  I remember that when I brought it in for service once, the mechanic told me that he found the car "bone dry" of oil.  I didn't hear any squealing or feel any rattling, though.  And then, one other time, probably remembering when it was completely out of oil, I was told by another mechanic after I brought it to him that was overfull with oil.  Too little, and then too much?  I can't win.  And I probably can't tell how the hell much oil is in my car at any given moment.

On a side note, I checked the oil level in my parents' minivan after work yesterday/Thursday.  I have thought of the car as my savior, a tough son-of-a-bitch that, while not doing it with any style, got me to where I needed to be with minimal incident.  But it is an old car, and I got paranoid as hell after being told that my new car had virtually no oil in it.  Now, I checked it on our driveway, and it is not level.  Also remember that I don't think I can tell what a dipstick tells me.  Saying that, there was no oil in there -- I think.  So I got the 5-quart behemoth Father got for the minivan and poured the rest of it (just over one quart) into the engine and waited five minutes.  Measured it again ... and the level seemed to be above the low mark.  So it's now good to drive.  Unless that quart I put in still isn't enough.  Or maybe because the minivan wasn't level it had enough oil already and I just overfilled it.  Dammit, man, I don't know.

Work Is Now The Upside-Down

Something happened for the first time ever yesterday/Wednesday in The Fourth Department at work: I got there just about on schedule.  Yep, I didn't have to stay an extra two hours or one hour or even half an hour.  I got out of there just before 5.  And since I clocked in 15 minutes later than I should have, that basically evens out to an eight-hour day.  Never thought that would happen -- never, ever.  Those first days back there by myself, when I didn't know what I was doing and every new form I had to deal with brought minutes of confusion, pain and resentment, I never thought I would have a day where I felt in control of that job.  But I have to say that just about everything was calm pretty much throughout the day back there.  Moreover, I have to confess that things have slowed down back there for the past several weeks.  There are still many days I have had to stay for a half-hour or an hour to finish up the work.  But it feels as though the extra time is getting shorter.  (Yesterday, having only eight new forms to deal with helped greatly in getting out the door on time.)  Moreover, even when I go over, I don't feel overwhelmed or trapped.  Some days it's a lot of work, but it's nothing I'm unfamiliar with, and so it's nothing I can't handle.

With successfully sanding down the worst aspects of that job, I can appreciate more the other aspects of it.  I am the only person working that position, so if I screw up, the only person likely to care and probably to know is me.  I'm tucked way in the back, so I can sneak in a quick Internet search and probably not get burned.  I am not assigned breaks or lunch, so I can use the bathroom or take my lunch nap whenever I please.  I hate to say it, but ... maybe I like this job.

Now, contrast that to The Main Department.  I went out there a couple times late in the day yesterday, and just like they now do on a regular basis, they did not finish up at 3.  Specifically, I went out there a bit past 3:30, and they were working.  Then, I popped backed out a bit before 4, and they were finishing up, but for me, that would be staying late about 30 minutes.  Now, multiply that by ... shoot, 40 days and that's a hell of a lot of overtime.  The people there must be frustrated they can no longer get out of work on time.  Shoot, man, that's how I felt when back on Saturday.  And I can't imagine being there five days a week, not knowing when the work will stop, getting physically and mentally drained because you're staying late yet again.  The stress and burnout is not something I thought would ever happen in a position where you can just put on some headphones and type on a keyboard without (mostly) being bothered because you are no position of authority.  But when you're short-staffed back there, and the work falls on you, it becomes true.  By the way, all those people stayed an hour after to finish up the work that had to be done despite two new people coming onboard yesterday.  Yes, they were training, but every single keystroke helps, and I think that even mediocre data entry people could do their part in shrinking the workload to the point where everyone can leave when they're supposed to.

So to sum up, one of my jobs has gone from hellish to actually pretty good, and another of my jobs has gone in the exact opposite way.  Am I ... happier to work in The Fourth Department now?  Do I, like, now hate My Main Department?  Right now, I have to say ... yes.  And that upending of calcified conventional wisdom feels so, so wrong.

The Latest Changes At Work

So, because a former co-worker quit, only two other people (me and my supervisor) are the only ones who man The Fourth Department.  There has to be one person there each day, and for the first, oh, few weeks or so, the breakdown was I took the front half (two or three days) and she would take the back half (two or three days).  That was a change from before, when my ex-co-worker would take the first half and I the second.

That change changes things.  Starting off on my own after I got trained in, I was so wiped out from working back there that I needed to unwind by going to a bar and having a cocktail or two.  Once I saw that I would be working back there semi-regularly, I realized I couldn't be doing that every day I worked back there, for the sake of both my liver and my wallet.  Nevertheless, I believe going, say, once a week isn't the worst thing in the world.  However, these bars I go to are the "secret" ones -- you know, the ones that don't really have a sign out.  These bars usually aren't open every night.  All of them are open Thursdays and Fridays -- days I used to work in The Fourth Department, so it lined up perfectly.  But now that I'm back there Mondays, Tuesdays and sometimes Wednesdays and I want to knock back one or two, I can only go to one place ... well, actually two, but that "secret" bar downtown is open every day except Monday, so I don't worry about when that won't be open.

And yet there has been another change.  Very shortly after my ex-co-worker departed, someone from third shift decided to move to a normal work schedule and took the same position as me -- not the same work sched as my ex-co-worker, but the one from the ex-co-worker before this one (who, to be fair, just moved to a different job within the same building; we see each all the time).  She starts training tomorrow/Thursday -- not in The Fourth Department but my favorite one.  But the one who trains her is my supervisor.  And I don't know why, but it was decided that this training will take place for two days between Wednesday and Friday each of the next four weeks.  So, whenever my supervisor trains my new co-worker, I go to The Fourth Department.

Now, my supervisor doesn't work Mondays.  Moreover, for some reason, there will be no training on a Tuesday, so my supe can and will work that day of the week.  Which means that for the next month or so, I will start off at The Fourth Department for the week and come back to work The Fourth Department to finish off that same week.  Doing that job is an exhausting grind.  But I have come around to thinking that there are advantages to working consecutive days there.  You are familiar with the work, in particular the forms you have to track, and if getting information one way doesn't work, you know that you need to go somewhere else without remembering where you went to first.  I still don't think I can do that job full-time (unless they double my pay), but I think it would be best for all involved if I just work there until my supervisor has completely trained my new co-worker at this other position.  It's a month.  I don't think I'll bang my head against the wall and quit.  At least I don't think.

But it's probably futile to bring up that suggestion.  So, I will be bobbing in and out of there, not getting into a rhythm back there, and then, once all this training is done, I'll have to adjust to a new schedule that may or may not look like the one before the one I will have done.  It's all so confusing, and tiresome, and so I look forward to that one day a week where I treat myself to a drink or two at a "secret" bar.

Horizontal Blinds Broken

They broke just before my parents left.  Hard to explain, since I'm busy catching up on YouTube videos on how to replace blinds and therefore need to know the fucking vocabulary of blinds, but the, like, string on one section broke, so one side is slumping real bad right now.  It's still up, and it's still covering my window, which are the most important things, but it's going to continue to slump, and I'm scared that in the middle of the night it'll just, like, break completely and fall down, and so people could see right into my bedroom, and I would either be sleeping naked or be in the middle of masturbating or something.

I don't know how to fix it, or even if I could.  I think I need to ask my parents not how to replace the blinds, but if they somehow bought these in bulk and, if so, where's the spare blinds.  Because I could see Father doing that.  And then he'll get all confused and tell me to figure out how to replace the blinds myself -- "Learn how to do it!" -- and then I'll get all pissed off and say, "Of course I have to learn!  You're not even here!  And that's not what I'm asking you, asshole!"

So I'm kind of stressed out.