The Autumn Equinox Is Killing Me

I love fall.  I really do.  But that might just be my mind, because my body is not adapting well, at least I don't think.

I had enough sleep over the weekend, and yet because I only slept about four hours overnight Sunday night, I felt really, really achy at work yesterday/Monday.  Also, not for nothing, my co-worker had a bad, bad case of the sniffles.  She put on a mask, thank Buddha (I have a stash, she asked for one), but it ain't no N95 or KN95, so let's see if I'm sick, too.

I had to go this place I was at Thursday because I have a deal that expires today/Tuesday.  There was a deal that was for one day only on Thursday.  Before these two times, the last time I was at any place at this chain maybe was a decade ago, and that was in the western metro at a place I think has closed down now.  Anyway, I got there and stayed for two hours while watching Monday Night Football.  The deal was a free full order of garlic bread so long as I buy some other food, and stupidly (even though it is good), I went for a personal-sized pizza.  I didn't finish either.  And when I brought it home, I fell back into my doomscrolling stupor, then went to bed just after watching the weather forecast.

I got up for good around 6 (an hour ago as I type this), but I must have been tossing and turning in bed for, oh, an hour before that, so even though I am awake, I think I've been up since 5.  My body feels better.  But last night I did what I've done often in the past month or so.  Sure, going to bed may be healthier for me, but my parents' coming back is looming, and I haven't done a damn thing.  I need to start cleaning up, but I had a chance to do that on Sunday because I stayed in all day, but I chose to do the laundry, start (but not finish) my receipts, eat and watch football.  I will bang my head against a wall the moment my parents tell me they're coming home because I had all this time to put myself in a better position and I haven't done it.  Right now I'm sorting my week as to when I will have time to start doing that, and I still feel the pull of going out and, say, watching a play or a movie.

Maybe the oncoming winter is killing me.  Or maybe it's my bad decisions.  Or maybe it's the specter of my parents coming home, like a bleepin' sword of Damocles.  Or probably, it's all of the above.

RIP, Psychologist

So I attended the funeral of my therapist yesterday/Friday afternoon.

It was raining all day -- not the ideal weather conditions to travel to a church and then attend the post-funeral reception, but it was the appropriate mood.  I didn't know anyone there except his secretary, but I was allowed to just stand and pace and look around in the church and wait for the ceremony to begin.

Nice-looking church.  Churches are always nice looking.  I'm not Catholic, but some of the psalms and beats and call-and-responses were actually familiar to me.  Then I remembered that I attended the funeral of my sister's best friend's mother back in December.  She too was Catholic, so I remembered what I had seen yesterday from back in December.  And then it dawned on me that I've been to two funerals within the past 12 months, and that I may be going to a lot more as I get older.

I will never know what to say, or how to behave, at a celebration of life memorial.  I mean, what can you say?

I saw the family march out in the steady rain to bury him.  It was not my place to accompany them, so I drove to his son's townhouse for the reception, then waited about a half-hour to make sure I saw people park and go to what I hoped was the right address.  (In the meantime I fell asleep, or at least tried to; a couple of times, as I was about to doze off, I could feel my Adam's apple press up against my collar and tie, and I felt this fear that I was drowning shoot up inside me, and I woke up again.  Wearing a collar and tie will always feel like I'm choking myself.)

Feels tacky to say this, but I will: The son has a nice place.  For a townhome whose driveway they split with another family, it's really spacious.  The food was decked out in what looked like a small indoor racquetball court.  I could totally see a family live here.  Heck, with the downstairs wet bar, I could see myself living here, even though it might be a big too spacious for just myself.  There, I did what a person who was not the deceased's immediate circle would do: Eat and keep to myself.  Eventually the daughter-in-law introduced myself, and that was nice to not feel like a total stranger.  I wanted to shake hands with her husband, the son, but on my way out (I didn't want to stay too long) I did what I thought was the absolutely necessary thing to do and give my condolences to my therapist's wife, the widow.  I remember a couple times calling him  where she picked up and handed the phone to him.  She said she knows who I was and remembers him raving about me.  I can't imagine being one of the people he remembers so fondly, but that's nice to know.

---

Seeing a man so loved made me tear up a little at the church.  It is jarring to see his two sons break down as they memorialized him.  And it is sad to watch, but it's a testament that he was so loved and valued, and what more can you want from a life?  I only know him from our relationship, but it was at the church where I saw how many friends he made, and how many lives he touched.  He was a hell of a guy who did a whole bunch of nice things, for his family and his professional community.  And his patients too, like me.

I have friends, but I don't confide in them like I did with my psychotherapist.  There are things I've told him I haven't told my family.  It's mostly my fears and sexual urges, and frankly, those are things I am not completely certain I can tell my friends, and definitely not my family.  (Sidetrack: Those things, especially my sexual urges, I would totally tell my stripper girlfriends.  But nearly all of them do not seem to want that level of emotional intimacy I am ready to give them at the drop of a hat.  That favoritism is something I think I told my shrink.)  And through all my rants and paranoia and erotic fantasies and violent ideations, for the 10-5 years I had known him, he just ... listened.  And that's what I miss about him the most.  He was a sounding board, someone I could not only talk to but talk at, and he just listened to me without judgement.  That isn't a healthy relationship, but that is definitely what my damaged, damned soul needed, to be listened to without judgement.  OK, so his advice the past several times we spoke over the phone were strange and not productive.  But that doesn't take away the fact that over the years he was someone I could talk to, and he helped, and tried to help, me when I needed someone to speak to in private.  I don't know if I can find another one like him again.

RIP, sir.

Maybe They're ... Not Coming Home?

I blog posted about not wanting to directly talk with my parents because I don't want to hear from them that they're coming home, but it's been about a week since I last spoke with them, and frankly, that is kind of weird.  I'm a chickenshit, but even this period of incommunicado was getting ridiculous.

Still, I took a baby step after my long day at work last/Thursday night.  No mail came that I needed to alert Mother about, but I looked at an e-mail on her e-mail account that she paid for the trash bill at an amount lower than what was stated on the bill I got and told her.  I was concerned that there was a reason she didn't pay the amount I thought she needed to pay, but as I've done the past week or so, I only texted her.  I thought she would call.  Well, Father called back on his cellphone, and he started off by giving me the number of a roofer who was willing to come by the house and inspect and give an estimate for replacing the roof.  He really wants me to call him, then take a day off to let his guy go all over the top of our house.  Well, if you're coming home, why can't Father do that?

Father then got Mother on his phone.  She got my text; she put in that amount on purpose after haggling with the trash service.  Nothing else she said rocked my world for the worse.  In fact, she said that they might be planning a trip.  After coming back here?  Before?  Instead??  I got the feeling, then and there, that my parents might not be coming back home after all, even though Mother said as early as August that they would.  I didn't press her on this issue because I don't want to jinx anything.  But if they're going to be away from home for upwards of a calendar year ... well, that just means the ultimate state of freedom for me, isn't it?

Ironically, though, this makes me believe that I should visit them.  They have things here they might need if they are taking a long trip out of the country.  Besides, and don't tell them this, I kind of miss them.  And I don't my hanging out with them so long as they're away from all my stuff that I've strewn around the house.  I should start making plans to fly to see them, risk of getting kidnapped by the government be damned. ...

No, I Don't Want To Know When

It's been over a week since I spoke to my parents.  And when I say that, I mean literally speak to them.  Since then I have been in contact with them, through text.  I usually do that, and only do that, when there is a letter regarding an issue with one of their properties for which Mother needs some idea of what's going on, and telling her just won't cut it.

But over the past week bills have been sent.  Usually I just get on the phone and tell Mother that, hey, this bill came in and it's for such-and-such an amount.  I also tell her about checks that have come in, but when the latest one came over a week ago ... well, I just texted her that it's here.  And she was fine with it.  Then, a couple bills came and I figured this is something Mother needs to know about, so I texted her to call me, but I didn't hear from her the rest of the evening.  OK, this is unusual.  And I didn't want to wait to call after work the next day, so I texted her the nature and amount of these two bills at work the next day, and she said she would take care of it.  Not going to lie, I am in a texting mood now, so the bills that have come in since I have only told her through text.

Yes, it's easier.  But I have to admit that the real reason I am now texting her is that I don't want to hear her tell me that they're coming home.  They should be coming home by now.  And don't get me wrong.  When I say "should," I don't mean that it's the right thing to do, or it's preferable.  I mean that they've been gone over half a year, and they say they would be coming back, so logic would dictate they would mean what they say and be back.  Now, they usually summer here in Minnesota, and they didn't do that.  Mother later said they'd return in August, and obviously that's not the case.  They have said they want to come back to look at the mail that's accumulated, or to start working on a new roof, or figuring out what to do with the minivan, or to see that the trash is now being picked up.  But they're not here -- at least not yet.

Still, I have had this creeping fear that, as time marches forward, the inevitable end of me having the whole house to myself has to come.  Surely, they would be making a decision now that it's Labor Day ... even though, and I may be pointing this out to myself in order to give myself hope, generally this is the time of the year my parents leave Minnesota.  And hey, maybe they realized they just want to stay out there, and that there is no reason to come back since everything is hunky dory, and it is hunky dory here right now.  But I feel like I'm tied to a conveyor belt with my legs spread open with a laser beam ready to zap my genitals, like that scene in Goldfinger.  If/When they tell me, I have so much shit I need to do -- pack up all my things (and I am visually overwhelmed with all the packing I'll have to do ... my goodness it's a lot), take them to storage, and clean, clean, clean.  I don't have the time to do that, I don't have the energy to do that, and I frankly don't have the will to do that.  So I don't talk to Mother nowadays because being incommunicado with her lets me leave all my stuff out where I want.  And that is a ... don't want to say a fiction, but a situation I've created in order to make me feel good about myself.  As long as she doesn't tell me they're returning, I get to live how I feel.  So I don't talk to her because that way, she can't tell me anything.

You know, this is something I would talk to my psychiatrist about.  God, I could use someone to talk to about my anxiety right now.

So for the second consecutive day and night, the juice I had prepared for a cocktail I thought I was going to make has been sitting, or rotting, in the refrigerator till the next day because I got home from something I was doing in the evening and I was too tired to make the drink.  Coinciding with my penchant these days for falling asleep at a decent time and actually resting for an appropriate amount of hours, I'm scared that this is a sign that 1) I will develop Alzheimer's and 2) I should stop drinking, which is not good since I bought some spirits yesterday.  What to do?

I'll leave it at that.

Weird.  Needed to talk to my folks about some bills, but Mother, who is really attentive in calling back, didn't.  I texted her Wednesday night, but it wasn't until the day yesterday/Thursday that she replied, and she said the bills, for which we usually talk about, she will handle.

Honestly, I have tried avoiding talking to them, only because I fear the date they come home.  Not ready for that.  Still, I need to be sure they're alright, and not being in contact with them for more than a day after I said I need to speak to them sets me a bit on edge.  The text is fine, but it's something to monitor.

Feeling Faint Late At Night Again

I feel it right now -- I have that kind of tiredness where I feel my head is really heavy, and that I am barely hanging onto consciousness.  It's the type of fatigue where I can instantly pass out at any time.  If I'm holding something, I could pass out and drop it.  If I'm standing up, I could pass out and fall right where I stand.  It's that kind of tired.

Have any of you felt tired like that?  I felt that some time ago, but it went away, but now I felt it last night and now.  Don't know why.  I'm scared this is a foreshadowing of sundowning and how Grandmother turned into a demented monster come dusk.  Hope this isn't an omen.

Still need to power through, though.  Have some things I still should do.

Filing For The First Time In A Long Time

Today/Friday and tomorrow/Saturday I am filing at work in place of someone vacationing.  I am nervous as all get-out because, even though I was trained on this years ago, it's been at least a year since I've filed.  I don't quite remember how to do things, so no, it's not like riding a bike.  It gets worse tomorrow/Saturday because I will be all by myself there.  If I don't know what to do, I am supposed to just leave it there for my co-worker to do it on Sunday.  Which might be what I have to do, but that sounds like I am not able to do my job.

Wish me luck.  Might have to fake it.

So I am working a Game this afternoon, but because my friend and co-worker got sick, I'm stepping up to take his job.  Generally speaking, it's a position I've done before -- long, long, long ago.  I hope that the combination of being thrust into this job just yesterday/Friday and the people I'll be working for and with are chill (fingers crossed) will make this assignment a non-bad one.  But do I have a guarantee the you-know-what won't hit the fan?  Nope.

Wish me luck.

Is Mother Dying? Is She Lying About It?

The damndest thing, I got two voicemails yesterday/Monday that were left for Mother.  It's from the same phone number -- a cancer center, where they were talking about schedule surgery.  Surgery??  Cancer?!?!

OK, I try to avoid talking to Mother as often as I can; hell, there's an insurance bill that came yesterday/Monday that I haven't told her about yet.  I am keeping that a secret because I was hoping that me just texting her that I received these two VMs would be enough for her to take it from there.  But no, she calls me.  She asks me to text her the voicemails, which I had no idea you could do, but I did.  She said she would listen to the VMs and then get back to me.

And she did get call me back ... and supposedly after listening to the voicemails, Mother said not to worry about it, they dialed the wrong phone number.  On the one hand, phew!  On the other hand, I call shenanigans.  How much time do you need to determine a VM -- left for me, by the way, and not her -- that is scheduling surgery is BS?  Wouldn't having surgery be something foremost in your head, so that if you get information that the place you're having said surgery is looking for you, you would immediately go, "Oh!  What's their number??  I need to get in touch with them ... and oh, by the way, I have cancer!"

Well, Mother didn't do that.  So ... is she lying?  Does she really have ... cancer?

Now I Get To Worry About My Struts

So I got of the mechanic just fine.  Like I hoped, I just needed an oil change and a tire rotation.  But, and there oftentimes is a but, the guy said that the struts could be replaced.  He said they're fine, for now, no cracks or leaking or anything, but he stressed that they are beyond the recommended miles/life schedule.

It is the summer, and it's probably easier for all of us if major or long repairs are done then as opposed to the winter.  (Maybe it's not a good thing that I've passively decided to bring my car in in the heart of the summer and the winter.)  But changing struts is a half-a-day job, and then they have to take it to another shop (?) to do the alignment.  It's possible I wouldn't have my car till the next day.  I had the World Cup to go to (didn't think France would get completely shut down by Spain like they did), and even though, at the end, it is kind of frivolous, I had set aside work yesterday/Tuesday for, like, the past six weeks in order to watch.  Also, this job is not only going to be time-consuming, in which case I would probably have to use the minivan to get to downtown, but it would also cost me about a grand, and I was not prepared to spend that much money.  So I decided not to.  But the next time I bring my car in, which will likely be January, I guess I'll have it done.

So now I have to worry about my car bouncing around when I brake hard.  And braking hard might be inevitable on slippery roads on a winter day.  Hopefully the struts stay intact for another half-year.

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Saturday, July 11:

• Well, we're going back to Friday, July 10, the day I went to a party.  Because of that, I stopped by an ATM to get money that morning.  I was going to dump a bottle of motor oil in a trash can, as well as an old Chick-Fil-A milkshake cup I had in my refrigerator that had a little bit of milkshake left but somehow froze even though it was in the fridge, then I was planning to get a mocha from Caribou just a couple of suites away.  But standing ... there was some stringy White woman who asked me if I was going into Caribou.  She said she was kicked out of there for "trespassing."  Now that sounded weird, plus I had to go to work, so I just said I stopped my car to throw that bottle and milkshake cup away.  She then asked me if I could go into Caribou and buy coffee for her, and I refuse to help strangers that way, so I said no.  But that meant my cover was blown and I couldn't buy Caribou ... at least not from there, because thank Buddha there is another Caribou close by.  In fact, this Caribou is closer to work, but I always hated this one because of the shitty customer service.  This time around was OK, so maybe the bad baristas are gone.  Anyway, I hope the weird lady is gone now.  Mocha, pastry and tip equals: $11.75.
• The party after work that day was ... different.  Talked about *****y watching over me.  Again, I just wished I had performed better for ******e.  But at least she didn't charge me an arm and a leg over my pee-pee.  With cover it all came out to: $150.
• Monday the 6th ... this was the day where I went to the Black Hart after work to watch the Americans lose and be eliminated in the World Cup.  I thought I had used cash for everything I ate and drank there and just forgot, but turns out I only used cash for that busker who comes around selling her Mexican food.  Got an enchilada, but they didn't have any utensils to eat it with.  Come on, guys, do better.  Cost: $10.
• Back to Friday the 3rd, the start of a glorious long Independence Weekend.  I started it at the barber school so I could get a shave.  My hair was getting long.  Also, I was asked to do this video tribute to a guy who runs a men's basketball pool I've been a part of for almost two decades, so I needed to look good.  The shave was also good, even though I realized I needed to leave because I had things I needed and wanted to do.  Thought coming in on a weekday would allow me to get to my shave quickly, but since the 4th of July was the following day, everybody had this day off, so I had to spend a half-hour waiting.  Oh, well.  With tip: $14.
• This is The Summer Of Soccer, so I spent a lot of time, and money, reveling in it.  I went to the Black Hart after getting shaved for a Tripleheader of Round of 32 World Cup action.  I got there in time to order a Bloody Mary and a big Italian meat pizza.  I need to use cash more, and going to the barber school (I need money to at least tip), I had an excuse to use cash this time.  With tip, this meal was: $30.
• And I stayed from the early afternoon till deep in the night.  That night, that busker selling Mexican food at the Black Hart came around.  She knows my face now.  I ordered tacos, which were good, although a bit overpriced (IMHO) at: $10.
• Thursday the 2nd -- got out of work in time to see the Portugal-Croatia Round of 32 Match in its entirety, and in fact I had time to go to El Taco Riendo to watch it.  Had two rounds of food and drink: Chilaquiles and a Corona for the First Half, then esquites and a fountain Coke for the Second Half.  With tip it all came out to: $34.86.
• That night I wanted to see Switzerland-Algeria and this Mediterranean place close by me which was advertising them broadcasting the World Cup.  It was somewhat of a disaster, as I detailed here, but the food (Dubai chocolate cake) and drink (Adeni tea) was nice.  With tip: $16.
• Wednesday the 1st: More soccer.  Went to the Black Hart.  Decided on a whim that I was going to get a burrito from the Mexican food busker even though I wasn't planning on it.  Cost: $5.
• And since I used cash for her, I needed to use cash somewhere else.  Even though I charged everything at the Black Hart up till that point, I decided I needed to give a tip to stick to my OCD principle of using money at least twice if I am using it at all: $1.
• Looks like I have to go all the way back to Saturday, June 20.  I enjoyed some World Cup soccer in the afternoon at the Black Hart, where I got a dirty vodka martini.  With tip I spent: $10.
• I then went to see ******a at My Favorite Stripclub (I don't know if I need to say "Cover Version/Edition/Division" anymore).  This was the first time I saw ******a since she, uh, made all my stripper fantasies come true when she came over to rub me down, tee-hee.  It wasn't awkward, although I made a couple faint allusions over what she did to me.  Got 20 table dances from her.  With cover, tips and drinks for the both of us, the grand total came out to: $231.
• On Friday the 19th I went to Chimborazo to see my smart people group.  I hadn't seen them in a while, and I wanted to, especially since Chimborazo is both relatively close to work, from which I was planning on going to, and relatively close to home, to which I would leave Chimborazo to hopefully see the Brazil-Haiti World Cup Match in its entirety.  I was able to make it to the restaurant at our appointed time.  Work wasn't the issue; a sudden hailstorm was, but I braved through it.  The place was packed and therefore too loud for me to start any conversation with even the people at the table I was eating with.  That's not really conducive to a relaxing atmosphere (turns out that when I left, which was well after the Brazil-Haiti Match started), several other members of my party left, too), but I am glad this great Ecuadorean restaurant is doing well.  With tip I spent: $60.
• On Sunday, June 7 I went to my alumni spot to see my college baseball team choke away a lead both in this Game and their Super Regional series.  Very disappointing.  Plus tip: $35.
• Later that day I think I drove all the way to *****y's place to see her.  Gosh, I can't do that again - too far!  Anyway: $150.
• Wednesday, June 3: Quick tryst with ******e for only: $120.
• Finally, on Monday, June 1, ******a came over and made all the fantasies I had about a stripper servicing me come true.  Who says you can't have a clean dancer go dirty if you convince them?  All that and a bomb-ass massage for: $150.

Good through July 11.

Golf Or Soccer?

Tonight was where my paralysis is at its worst.  I don't know what to do between two things I want to do, and the variables are either so even or so unknowable that I am completely a waste.  Since I got home (early) from World Cup viewing I took a nap and surfed the Internet.  All because I cannot decide if I want to drive all the way to Chaska to watch the Women's PGA Championship in Hazeltine, or watch the first Round of 32 World Cup Matchup between Canada and South Africa at this new Mediterranean place close by me.

One of the main things I use to determine what I should do is figuring out the chances I'll be able to do it in the future.  While the World Cup is every four Years (and I'm just watching it on TV), who knows the next time a golf major comes to town.  Using that factor, I should be going to the Women's PGA, and it's a no-brainer.

But there are a lot of things that are making me balk.  One is the weather.  It's supposed to get very humid starting today/Sunday, with dewpoints bursting through the seventies in the afternoon.  I am not a fan of humid weather, and I don't know if I can stomach sweating through my clothes for a few hours (at least).  Compare that with when I went to Sunday Singles at the Ryder Cup, which was also held at Hazeltine.  That was held in late September, and there was no heat or the humidity to contend with then.

What may be more of an annoyance, however, is that I don't necessarily find watching golf in person all that enjoyable.  I remember I went to the 3M Classic (when it was part of the Seniors Tour, not the current 3M Open for the PGA) a few times because it was at the course close by and it was free.  That was in the dog days of summer, and my goodness, it was hot.  I was able to endure, but it kept dawning on me that I'm doing a lot of walking around and a lot of sweating, and it overpowered any joy in watching great golfers play.  Also, and this may be too obvious, but golf courses are big.  You have to walk miles if you want to watch the whole thing.  And I don't know the first thing of the layout of Hazeltine.  Sure, there will be maps of the course, but I'm bad at directions.  Also, I don't know who I want to follow.  Should I just park myself at the 18th green?  What if the tournament is decided before then?  And how about the sightlines?  Will I be able to see anything besides the backs of people's heads?

Still, it's a major.  And while I won't know exactly how it'll feel tomorrow, I kept checking the forecast and it has said, for at least the past few days, that temperatures will hit 80 in the afternoon and the sky will be cloudy.  Considering the dewpoint, if the forecast called for sun, no way would I go.  I would not be able to deal with it being that humid and having the Sun beat down on me.  But overcast?  Yeah, it'll be 80 degrees and it'll feel swampy.  But I won't feel like I'm frying from the Sun's rays.  I might have a chance to at least tough it out.

There are other determinations, too.  If I'm going to watch the soccer Match, the place is so, so close.  I could drive the minivan and give my car a rest.  And speaking of my car -- I finally had the chance to check the oil in my car inbetween Games yesterday/Saturday, and the damn stick was dry.  I poured half a quart of oil and checked later, and then I saw some oil on the dipstick.  But it kind of freaked me out, and that is making me think I should give my car a break.  Finally, I really, really do need to do chores (going through my stuff and washing dishes mostly), and I won't do it if I have a 40-minute drive back from Carver County and am too pooped to do anything once I get home.

Still, it's a major.  So I am going to sleep on it and, depending on when I wake up and what the sky looks like and how hot it feels, I'll either make the drive to watch the best female golfers in the world play in my neck of the woods or I'll just puss out and watch soccer while eating shawarma ten minutes away from me.  These are the days where I want some deity to give me a sign that definitely tells me to do this or that.  Why can't I have that?

One Dollar Fewer And I'll Be Killed By A Dog

So I just got my hair cut from some dog lady who had a sign that basically said she loved her dog, but her customer service was kind of meh.  I tipped her a buck less than I otherwise would, but beyond the meh service, I tipped less because these guys raised their prices by another buck.  I swear it was, like, $15 around the time of the pandemic.  Anyway, when you tip, they have buttons for five, seven and ten bucks.  But since I tipped only $4, I had to hit the custom button.  So I'm scared that she noticed and she's pissed.

I am so afraid that I forgot to get my silver-lined loofah from the master bathroom when I took a shower in my bathroom.  I also hit my head against the rail that's still in the shower, and I spat on my foot while I was in there.  I'm so afraid because she might know where I live, and might sic her dog on me.  Yeah, the dog she devotes her life to is Cujo.  Sucks to be me that I got my hair cut by someone with shitty customer service and Cujo for a pet.

Shouldn't I Be The One Teaching Her?

So this week the new girl finally is getting trained in The Fourth Department.  Once she's fully up to speed, all four of us are able to handle both The Third and The Fourth Departments.  It had to be done; it's her job to know those skills, after all.  But, and I was talking about this with one of us four, we were happy how things were, with the new girl just doing The Third Department.  That means more work dedicated just for us.  And that means more job security for us.  But alas.

Thing I don't know how to process is who's teaching her.  My former supervisor, the one who taught me everything back there, is long gone.  So who is teaching her?  One of my other co-workers ... who got the position we're at after me.  By tenure, I should be the one teaching the new girl.  But I'm not.  In fact, the question of who would train her -- well, I should be more specific; why am I not the one training her when I've got the most experience -- never came up.  It was her all along.  I've seen the conversations between her and my current boss.  She has picked up the slack and is doing some of the responsibilities my former supervisor and boss did, so naturally my boss thought she'd be the one to break the new girl in ... even though I think I was at this job a year before she was.

So, why am I not training her?  It could be incompetence.  Even though I've been at this longer, I'm not sure I can say I do it better.  Maybe she does.  Also, I don't give off extrovert vibes at work.  When I work, I am usually sitting down and I have earbuds jammed into my ear canals.  I answer questions the best I can, but if I'm seeing me at work, I can't say I am interested in being engaging with my co-workers, let alone training someone new.

Does it hurt to be passed over like this?  Yes, I won't lie.  Mostly because I'm scared over what it means to be passed over.  This critical responsibility of training is an important one, and it should go to the one with the most tenure.  That it's not reflects poorly on me, and if, God forbid, something were to happen with the company, I think not training the new girl would be a demerit against me keeping my job.  On the other hand, I've seen my co-worker helping the new girl out this first week of training.  And honestly, I'm not sure I would have any interest in training her.  I remember all the bad and dumb things I've done and continue to do at my job.  Telling her how to do things right would probably make me feel like an impostor.  And as shitty as yesterday's/Thursday's work was, I was at least left alone, and that's something I treasure at work.  So maybe my co-worker and boss knew what they were doing when they passed me over.  And maybe I should not be the one teaching her.

Is It Worth Dealing With Traffic?

I am at to this library that's not close but close enough.  But I have to use the highway to get there.

While driving here, I see the traffic on the highway coming back completely backed up.  There are road crews that are doing something that requires shutting down the left-most lane.

Thing is, I see all this and have chances to take exits that get me home right away without getting stuck in all that.  I didn't take them.  I didn't turn around.  I figure I can just go on Google Maps and they'll find a way of getting me home.  But if not, I am driving the old minivan and will be stuck on the highway for a while, looks like.

So why am I going to the library?  Well, to blog post on my day off.  But also to sharpen my pencils.  This is the only public place I know close to me that has a public pencil sharpener.  I'm going to see Ohtani and the Dodgers play tonight/Wednesday night and I need to sharpen my pencils to score the Game.  That is enough for me to drive out here and sit in traffic on the way back.  Or am I being foolish?

Three Things From Yesterday

All I wanted to do is wish Father and Happy Father's Day yesterday.  And sure, it's innocuous, but dammit, he reminded me that they plan on coming home some time.  When?  Who knows.  But he launched into this story where he was told by some guy who called him that there was a hailstorm here, which there was, and do you want us to check the house for any damage?  These shady, fly-by-night shakedown jobs always are on the make, promising to replace the roof quickly and for cheap.  Not to say that the roof on our house doesn't need at least a once-over.  But if it is, I'd rather go to a reputable company and not some half-ass dimwit who are just cold-calling people in the hopes of suckering them out of their money later.  Anyway, they're coming home, and that day is getting closer, and I am not ready for that.

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On a brighter note, all day yesterday/Sunday I hung out in downtown Minneapolis.  MNUFC and Brit's Pub held a joint soccer celebration where, for free, you can watch World Cup Matches.  During the last Game of the quadruple-header, Egypt-New Zealand, I looked up from where I was at the sunken Peavey Plaza.  There were strangers of all countries and background watching the Match from a huge TV screen.  Meanwhile, the setting sun managed to cast its rays on the tall buildings downtown.  And I felt happy and safe.  Downtown Minneapolis being dangerous is absolute bullshit.  What I experienced downtown yesterday?  That's the real downtown, and don't let any MAGAt make you believe otherwise.

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Even though Michael Boxall, who's MNUFC's longtime Centerback, was playing for New Zealand, Egypt fans overwhelmed Peavey Plaza.  I swear there were about four dozen Egyptians and Egypt Fans at the Game-watching party, and that is four dozen more Egyptians and Egypt fans than I believed live here.  Oh, and there are some fine-ass Egyptian chicks, I tell you what. ...

Left Pinky Toe Twitch

So for the past, oh, week or so I have noticed that my left pinky toe, and maybe my left ring toe, has been twitching.  I notice this when I'm at home.  Wonder if all my sitting down at work has anything to do with it.

I also wonder if it's Parkinson's.  If I recall correctly, Michael J. Fox noticed an uncontrollable twitch in one of his fingers while he and his wife were being driven by limo to some awards ceremony.  The finger was shaking so violently, and Fox was so spooked, that they had the limo driver drive around the block in the hopes that it would stop twitching.  Don't know if it did, but I think it was the first time Fox felt something was very, very wrong.  He got the diagnosis some time after.

Yeah, let's hope it's not Parkinson's.

Can't believe she did it!  Beyond my wildest dreams!!  And I didn't have to worry that I shot three days in a row, because the third day, last night, was -- pow!!!

But does this change things?  Hope not. ...

Why Did I Think Cleaning The Condenser Unit Would Be Easy?

When it comes to maintaining the AC, I didn't think it would be hard.  I studied up on cleaning the condenser unit.  What I did not take into account is screwing back in the lid.  I should have, because screwing things back in is never as easy as unscrewing them.

This whole rigmarole surrounding cleaning the outdoor unit was a pain in the ass.  I had to first get the water system up and running.  I got everything set up in the backyard, but forgot that the gate valve in the basement had to be turned on, and when I did, I heard this scary as hell banging as the water started flowing.  And then I went outside and the pipe leading to the spigot (where I hooked up the hose I used to rinse the unit) was dripping water like crazy.  I thought there was a bad leak, but it stopped, so (shrug).

I then was able to unplug the condenser.  I was able to yank the, and I just learned this is what it was called yesterday on YouTube, the cartridge in the outdoor breaker, and then the cartridge in the main circuit breaker in the basement.  Unscrewing the cover to get inside the condenser was easy.  Applying the cleaner seemed fine, even though I though there would be a lot more froth.  And the hose worked in rinsing off the cleaner.  But goddammit, I kept lining up the lid, but the holes through which I had to screw the screws wouldn't line up for all five screws.  I was getting both frustrated and hot, and that's not a good combination, so I went back inside to eat the rest of my chicken wrap and cool off.  I tried again, got three screws in, then said screw it with the other two screws.  Everything works and I finally turned on the air conditioning for the first time this year.  But I have two screws extra.

My bedroom is right above the unit.  I don't think it's noisier than it would be if it had all five screws in.