I Shouldn't Have To Pay This Way

This might be a misleading title, but at my most dramatic, I feel this way.

It was another ten-hour day at work where I left so much work that I felt like I accomplished nothing.  The big thing I was looking forward to was picking up Popeye's before heading home.  As I left the drive-thru and got back on the road that would lead me to my house, a car was picking up steam behind me.  I was going to head into the left turn lane and drive slowly but directly home.  But that damn car was also taking a left, so I abruptly moved back on to the main road.

And then ... well, when you're tired and distracted, your mind kind of wanders, you know?  My next plan was to take this cloverleaf exit, but by the time I was aware of my surroundings, I was driving past it.  Instead of recklessly jerking my car to the right, I would go to my tertiary plan and take the next side street home.  Unfortunately, me being in Minnesota, this left turn took me right over a vicious goddamn pothole I did not see coming.  And then on the street just before the street that gets me to my house, I ran over another one.

I think my car's OK.  After eating my Popeye's (and spacing out, natch), I planned on checking out the underside of my car before getting gas for it, but I just drove to the gas station and back.  I forgot to look and make sure there is nothing underneath my car because, again, I spaced out.  But I hate, completely hate driving over potholes.  I always feel as though my small car will break apart, or more realistically (I guess) my shocks will get worn and/or broken.

And all of that could have been avoided if I had just taken that first left, or paid attention to the cloverleaf right.  But is driving over two potholes "punishment" for spacing out?  I feel that way, but I don't think that's right, know what I mean?  I shouldn't have to pay for my inattention by damaging my car.  But it feels as though that, if there are gods above, they're making me pay for not being more aware of my surroundings.  No grace for a spacing-out scoundrel like me, huh?

Work Sucks Even More Now

Oh, man ... I haven't blog posted till now because last/Wednesday night I ate out, came home and, because I had woken up at 4:30 yesterday/Wednesday morning, fell asleep at 10:30 at night and didn't wake up till the alarm sounded at 7 this/Thursday morning.  Fell asleep so hard that I didn't even sleep with my clothes on.  Gosh, it felt good.

Anyway, work sucked, big time.  Worse, even.  I'm not sure if the snowstorm down south, which delayed a shipment from last week that we are still trying to catch up on, was the reason for all the crap I had to go through today or if it's just a bump up in workload compared to recent months, but there was a lot.  So much, in fact, that I have left work after spending my self-imposed two extra hours with work left over.  I'll be honest: I now track the specific number of forms I get in The Fourth Department, and number-wise, I have had "worse" days than today.  It might be the type of form or I might be out of practice (I last worked in The Fourth Department last week), but I was not close to finishing everything I should've done.

It's not a good feeling.  Sure, I can say that I did all I could, and I did do all I could.  But not since I started off on my own in The Fourth Department have I left so much to do till the next day, and back then I had the excuse that I was figuring stuff out.  Yeah, I have a lot to do, but I wonder if my higher-ups are going to come in in the morning, look at everything I still have to do, and wonder about me.

The worst thing about this all is the cascading effect.  Again, I don't exactly know why the work has been so much when until not too long ago I was afraid the company would shut down due to lack of work, but assuming there will be as much work as there has been recently, I am behind on finishing up the work I usually do in the afternoon.  That means the stuff I usually do in the morning has to be pushed back until the afternoon, and if there is a lot of new stuff, my God, there will be even more forms that will be left unfinished by the time I have to get my butt out of work.  And since tomorrow/Friday is my last workday of the week, I am leaving it for someone else to clean up.  Which might not be a bad thing for me personally, but probably not good when it comes to karma.

Uh-Oh. MAGAt Frenemy About To Go Psycho Again

So someone tried to assassinate Trump again -- allegedly.  For all I know, he just made this shit up.  I am hearing that these shots fired were on his golf course, but that doesn't necessarily mean he was near the shots or was even on the course.  (By the way, not to be a conspiracy theorist, but we still haven't had a full account of the first assassination attempt.  If it were real, we'd hear the whole truth.  Right?)

But I will wait until journalists figure out what happened.  In the meantime, I am afraid that this will gin up the fever brain of my, uh, acquaintance who I will see in about three weeks.  I know that if I were still friends with him on Facebook, I would see his post about how big a victim Trump is, and that will bait me into responding to him about how karma is a bitch, and he would go psycho on me again.  Glad I stopped being his Facebook friend.  And maybe he'll forget to bring it up when we see each other a few weeks from now.

Expenses Without Receipts

Starting from Wednesday, September 11:

• Actually I have to go back to Monday, September 9, where I had the dumbest conundrum that kept me up at night because of ... creamer.  I had run out of two and possibly all three bottles of creamer I had, and I was debating which days during my workday I would buy coffee in order to use up all my creamer.  My OCD forces me to use up every single drop of creamer, so when a bottle gets to its end, I make it go through a two-step process: I pour out as much as I can, then turn the bottle upside-down and store it in the company fridge.  The next time I use it, all the remaining creamer would be collecting in the underside of the cap, which I would carefully unscrew and pour into my reusable cup.  I was balancing that two-step/-day process with figuring out which days I could spend cash, which in itself didn't solve anything because I could have either bought coffee with it or a mocha, for which I would not need to use creamer.  But I was going to a stripper party later that night, so I decided that I would get a medium malted mocha at my Caribou which has my bank's ATM close by.  I would pay with cash, but not use the creamer until the next two days (Tuesday and yesterday/Wednesday).  It all worked out, and besides, I totally forgot the anguish I put myself through.  I also bought a chocolate croissant for myself.  With tip: $12.79.
• I already broke down the stripper party that evening.  I should add here that it was hosted not by the guy whose house was throwing the party but, of all people, the old, brokedown stripper who couldn't take the hint that I could not and would not go to her parties.  There were two main reasons why I wouldn't go: I didn't know anyone besides her, and her parties usually were way too far for me to drive to.  Well, I was invited by ******e and that's all I needed, and this place was in north Minneapolis, which is just about perfect.  I didn't even really recognize her until she brought up us no longer being in communication with each other.  But I think she's cool with it, even though I didn't get any dances from her or any of the other, half-dozen or so women who were there.  I just needed my five from ******e.  With cover: $125.
• And I think I stored a new quarter, even though it was minted last year: 25 cents.
• We fall back to Labor Day, where I made good on my vow.  Back in 2021, I visited my parents in Las Vegas.  Just for fun, we took the bus up from their place to downtown Las Vegas.  We stopped by a casino -- not to gamble, but to eat dinner, in particular a bargain prime rib dinner my parents always have a nose for.  I remember finally getting to the head of the line and the hostess, as she was checking me in, asking me if we have gambled at the casino before stopping in.  Now, you have to have the casino's rewards card to take advantage of their discount pricing and, I think, it was communicated to me that I should gamble before we ate.  We did not, of course, and I think that even though I answered yes, she swiped my newly-obtained card and immediately saw that I did not.  I feel bad for lying to her, even though my parents put me up to it, so when I made this trip to Las Vegas over the holiday weekend, I made a point of going into that casino and actually spending money.  (I had no intention of eating at that restaurant, and I am fully aware that the hostess, for all I know, no longer works there.  No matter; it's a matter of principle, and karma.)  I put $50 into a slot machine, max bet thrice, and came up empty all three times.  I think I paid my debt.  Total cost: $27.
• After I got back to the Strip I went over to the Westgate for one finally spin there before leaving the following afternoon.  I don't remember the last time I spent money there, so I plopped myself on a bandit for a minute and promptly lost money there too, namely: $10.
• But hey, I found a head's-up penny!  An Infusion of: 1 cent.
• On Saturday, August 31 I got into Las Vegas.  I got lost trying to find the bus station that would take me to my parents' condo.  I was told that I was at the wrong terminal.  I didn't know Reid had two terminals just like MSP.  So I needed an inter-terminal shuttle driver to get me back to the other terminal -- the one from which I arrived, by the way -- and find the bus station there.  The shuttle driver threw my carry-on in the back, so when I got it back from him, well, I thought I would tip him.  No one else did, but I did: $1.
• It's Vegas, so even though I got in late and even later because of the bus station mishap, the night was laid out before me, inviting me into her exciting bosom.  And I went to the closest casino to where I was staying -- the brand new Fontainbleau.  Really nice digs, even though I would probably say that for any brand new casino.  I got their rewards card, sat my butt down at a slot machine, and threw money into it in order to get some of the free play money you get when you sign up.  This time I won something, even though it wasn't enough to offset all of the $20 I put into it.  I had some of that $20 left over when I was able to convert the remainder of the free play into actual money, but the Fontainbleau took me for: $8.
• Friday the 30th -- the final of four days at the Minnesota State Fair, Buddha bless it.  Ticket, a large honey lavender lemonade from the Farmers Union, a plate called Marco's Garden from SIMS on the north end of the Fairgrounds, a short mini donut beer (with tip), paella with egg from one of the new (and good) vendors at the Fair, and a Honey 'n' Spice Espresso Shake-Up from Hamline Church Dining Hall equals a grand total of: $72.
• After the Fair I went to Casey's to gas up my car.  After I filled up I tried to get a receipt from the pump, but the screen said to go inside.  When I explained, the cashier gave me a dime back.  I don't think I was shorted ten cents, so I don't know why I was given it.  But I didn't complain.  Total: $8.90.
• On Wednesday the 28th I had to see ******e because I needed to get wanked bad.  She was as good as always; wasn't all that happy to see the children she was babysitting that afternoon.  I paid her an extra $20 because her birthday was coming up.  Ugh.  Paid her: $140.
• There is a vaunted taco place close to her called Taqueria Las Canadas.  It's housed in one of those brokedown gas stations.  The chorizo taco was pretty good, even though there isn't much of a place to eat it.  With a can of Coke to which I paid the cashier at the gas station and not the cook next to him, it call came out to: $4.27.
• Went to the Fair afterward.  Ticket, sweet clementine beer with tip at Giggles, a Peachey's donut for which I waited in line for half an hour, corn, and a Grumpy Old Manhattan, replete with smoke bubbles, from the Hideaway (plus tip) and it all came out to: $45.25.
• And I went to the Fair the day before, Tuesday, August 27!  Didn't need to buy a ticket because I bought two before the Fair began at a discount.  This was the day where I tried all the best new foods (according to all the reviewers out there).  Mancini's cheer lime freeze with tip, Richey's buffalo cheese curd and chicken tacos, the Purple Reign IPA from Dino's (plus tip and, in exchange, got purple, Prince-themed sunglasses), and Sabin's Fried Bee-Nana Pie with ice cream and the whole day cost me: $45.
• Oh, I went to get my face shaved before I went to the Fair.  With tip: $13.
• Friday the 23rd ... first time at the Minnesota State Fair.  This was the day where I concentrated on the staples, the tried and true foods that inevitably make the most money there.  A small Blu slushie with tip, walleye cakes from Giggles, cheese curds from the Mouth Trap, and a Minneapple Pie with cinnamon ice cream (for my money The Most Underrated Food At The Minnesota State Fair) where I don't think I was charged for the syrup I asked for (got away with one, I guess): $27.75.
• Saturday, August 17 was Porchfest for a neighborhood in Minneapolis where bands play at strangers' porches and lawns.  This is a real neat idea ... until I can't find parking for my car.  I bought a cup of lemonade from these two girls (and I threw in a tip), and there was this rocking band called Littleton that was impressive.  Total: $4.
• To Thursday, August 15: I needed to get skin cream for Father at his pharmacy.  Didn't need to use a credit card when it only cost: $1.
• I then went to my local movie house to see The Palm Beach Story as part of its Claudette Colbert retrospective.  I love seeing old movies, and I am telling ya, I love The Palm Beach Story.  It was fast, witty, and had dialogue and subject matter that I didn't think would be as, uh, adult as it turned out to be.  So glad I watched it!  Charged the ticket, the popcorn and the pop, but for tips for concessions and the organist I paid: $2.
• Finally, back on Thursday, August 8, I went to see my ATF at My Favorite Stripclub (Cover Edition).  Cover, tips, a Bud Light for me and a cocktail for her and twenty dances means: $232.

This is another huge gap between EWRs, but considering that, I thought catching up on over a month of these went a little faster than I feared.  Good through 9/11.

Thoughts About The Shooting

• I know I should wait until all the facts are in, but I will say this: LOL.  This is Trump, and Republicans, reaping what they sow.  They have endorsed violence for decades now.  They have actually been violent, on January 6, 2021.  And now that violence has been committed on them, they're ... well, let's see what they're going to do, but some MAGAt on CNN has popped off about how it's the Democrats' fault.  Fuck this guy.
• That leads me to the thing I am scared of now: That Republicans are going to use this incident as an excuse to commit violence on Democrats, or anyone they decide are their enemy.  Heard stories from reporters at the rally in Pennsylvania that MAGAts turned on the reporters at the scene, though I don't know how violent it got.  Never, ever underestimate how much Republicans think of themselves as victims.  It's the reason they do this shit.
• Saying all this ... yes, I am going to put my conspiracy theory hat on.  Why did the Secret Service not secure the rooftop that was only 200 yards away?  And why didn't security instantly hustle Trump off the dais?  If you are trying to squirrel away someone who just got shot, you don't let him stand on the podium and pump his fist in the air.  There are some very close shots of him with part of his ear getting taken off, and I'm going to say it: The lighting is perfect.  This was a very photogenic assassination attempt, to be frank.
• Thoughts and prayers ... to the audience member who was murdered.  Assuming he was paid to look like a Trump stooge.
• It's the guns.  It's always the fucking guns.  Take them out of Americans' hands.  Now.
• Oh, and both sides don't do it.  Republicans advocate for violence.  Democrats do not.  Don't both-sides this.  And don't fucking virtue-signal this either, demanding Democrats to denounce the violence against your orange king.  He's the one who started this bullshit.  He's the one who laughed when Paul Pelosi was attacked.  He's the one who spearheaded January 6.  Fuck Trump.

I Need This Fucking Trash Day To Be Over

So I woke up before work yesterday/Monday morning from a text from my boss that puts me in a different department for the day because someone called in.  That's fine; my job is to be a jack of all trades, so shifting jobs at the drop of a hat is part of the job description.  The problem started when I was told to sit at a desk that I wasn't expecting.  It's not mine per se, but it's the spare one I and the others who have the same job description usually use.  But I couldn't use it because my supervisor is still training in one of the people who share this same specific job as I have.

Instead, I had to sit at the desk of the person who called in "sick."  I hate taking over a person's desk, even though this is a company where that happens from time to time.  I have a desk of my own.  Not many people in the departments I work in can say that, and that is a privilege I don't take for granted.  (Actually, it's one of the few perks I get at this job that I still enjoy.)  I would be bothered if someone just fuckin' bogarted my desk just because.  It may be out of necessity, but I invaded my co-worker's space, and I was not happy all day.  And, to be honest, I hated the setup of his area.  He has no space for me to write, which I had to do constantly during the workday.  And I had all these calls I needed to make, and somehow he has his desk phone so recessed against the partition that I had to strain whenever I made a call, which was about 30 times.  That was an annoying pain-in-the-ass.

Finally, since I was in a department I hadn't worked in in a while, there were a few different protocols I had to follow.  I was told about these new procedures, or at least I believe I was told about them; I just hadn't put them into practice because I hadn't worked in this department in a long while.  One of them were these phone calls.  I would normally do my best to skip them, or at least half-ass them, but I was told that my boss and his bosses were cracking down, so I needed to do them.  So that was 30 calls (more than I have ever made in a day while working for this company), and 30 times I had to reach out to the phone, grab the receiver, make sure I don't drop the receiver so it snaps back to the console, reach out to punch the number in, wait for someone to pick up, and once I was done, put a tick mark on a Post-It (to keep track of how many calls I made, which is something I was told to do when I began training, to be fair) and reach out to put the receiver back in the cradle.  That took half of my day.  I know that in this job I could have been way more productive doing something else that making some goddamn calls.

Moreover, I was told that some quirk I just ignored during the course of my workday suddenly became important.  Sometimes we fax, and sometimes these faxes don't go through.  We are given these e-mails saying so, but I just ignored them because I was never told to care.  Well, apparently I do have to care now.  I need to go through the e-mail, identify which specific fax it was, determine if I was the one who faxed it, then figure out what to do to make that fax go through.  I needed to do that three times.  I wound up e-mailing instead of faxing twice.  Do you know how much time that took?  That is another distraction from the main task of this job, and I am embarrassed that I basically spent only half a day doing that main task, and instead building up all these forms to pass on to my co-worker, who may or may not have the time to do it herself.

Finally -- and I haven't thought about this much, even though if I were in a different mindset this would be the thing that triggers me -- my supervisor was trying out something for the printer, and we were told to look out for it while going through the course of our day.  I wanted to know who was doing it and why, and I asked my supervisor so.  And from around the corner, my boss, who I think was on his phone talking to a co-worker, I think shouted in answer to my legitimate question, "Doesn't matter!"  Uh, excuse me?  At that point I was already in a pissed-off mood, so my mood didn't change.  Did it worsen?  Believe it or not, I might have to think about it.  But let me say this: If I weren't so busy doing other things tonight, you better believe I would be pounding the online want ads again.  And I hope to get around to doing that this week.

I can't remember a day at this job where I was so looking forward to getting out.  Unfortunately I had to come back to the building because I forgot to fucking take the banana and peach Pepsi I brought.

---

About that banana: I just ate it -- with a knife so I could carve out the bruised parts.  I sliced off a piece on its side, but the banana was so heavy that it tipped over and tore off.  Thankfully I was eating this over the kitchen wastebasket.  Sadly, about 60-5% of the banana fell into it.  Most of it looked like a banana, too.  What a waste.  And I will admit that I thought for a good, oh, 15 seconds to pick it up and eat the parts that haven't touched the trash.  But I didn't, I swear.

---

Oh, and I wanted to go out and work on the things I needed to work on last/Monday night.  I wanted to go to Pryes Brewing because there were no events going on.  But when I drove across the place was packed.  I guess there was an event: It's a Monday night and it was beautiful out.  So I drove to Caffetto (which was not packed, which surprised me; I didn't plan on going there because I thought it was going to be packed) and did all I needed to do.

And then, as I reached home, the goddamn low tire pressure light came on.  Yeah, this is what I get for trying to blow off some steam by driving around town.  I rushed out to check the pressure on the tires, even though I checked them just before I left work.  The driver's-side front had way more air than the passenger's-side front, but all of them had enough air.  I went inside to grab my headlamp and tried again, just because -- same pressure levels.  And then I lost the valve cap to one of the tires.  Luckily I had a spare cap in my car.

I'll get the old valve cap (and make it my spare) as I roll down the car in the morning.  That's after I check the tires to make absolutely sure none of the tires deflate.  If so, this fucking trash day is going to become a fucking trash streak, and I don't need that shit, even though I'll text my boss to say I'm late because of my car, and that means I won't have to go into work, and that's actually fucking fine by me.

Running Over Something (It's My Fault)

I take a different route to work every morning if I am diverting to Caribou for my mocha, like I did yesterday/Monday.  I need to take a left to get to the main road that leads to my company.  But goddammit, many times when I take this left I hit what appears to be a pothole, and it's so jarring that I have to check my tires (and it's usually the right side) to make sure I didn't blow them out.

It's pissing me off.  I have looked on the pavement where I need to make the turn, and I have always tried to avoid this little pothole and this manhole cover because I think they're the ones that give me that jarring bump I feel if I don't drive over the smooth pavement.  But fuckin' A, there's some pothole or divot or ridge or something I'm missing, and I fucking damaged my car like that yesterday.

The rub of this all is is that I didn't plan on getting Caribou until I woke up.  My work schedule was such that I neither needed to stay late nor have any opportunity to go anywhere after work, so I thought there was a possibility that I could spend the whole workweek without popping open my wallet even once.  But ... dammit, the Timberwolves came back to win Game 7 and the series on Sunday, and I just felt like treating myself!  And shit, running over something real bad like this was karma's way of saying, "Yeah, big mistake, pal."  If I keep running over what I'm running over, maybe I shouldn't be getting Caribou anymore.  I can't take this any longer.

Christmas 2023 Thoughts

So I went down to The Only Place Open Late Christmas Eve for some scotch.  Really nice to resume this tradition I have for myself after a year in Hawai'i and two years of the pandemic.  Hope the bartender wasn't mad I took the cap of the whiskey she recommended out of her hand.  I ... thought that was OK.

---

The car is working just fine.  Still paranoid, though.  Apparently I haven't treated it well, and so the car is no longer optimal.  I just hate feeling as though whenever I drive to a place for pleasure, I am hurting my car, and so my car, or God, will punish me for just trying to live.  But I am driving my car slower and easier -- at least for now.

---

It's not winter.  It's been raining since, I think, yesterday/Sunday.  Doesn't matter to me because I'm not going out today.  Just eating the stuff my parents froze for me, making myself some drinks, washing clothes and going through my parents' financial affairs.  Maybe I could just stay in my bed and do nothing, but I should take time today to do some stuff.  I work tomorrow, and honestly, I'm bummed about it.  I want to be one of those people who have that limbo week between Christmas and New Year's off.  But I'm not, and so I feel like if I need to work tomorrow, I should get back into the swing of things and "work" today.

I feel bummed that, I think more this year than many other years, Christmas seems "over" now, as I type this.  This is solidly in the afternoon, and there's nowhere I have to be, and I am enjoying myself (even though preparing for tomorrow isn't fun at all).  But once I was preparing for bed last night, all the Christmas music I was enjoying leading up to today (and by the way, I think this Christmas season [and I define that as from Black Friday until Christmas] has been as long as I expected -- not too long, not too short) feels stale.  It never made sense to me to listen to that music on December 26, but it feels weird to me to listen to it now.  Maybe it's because it doesn't look like winter outside.  Or, maybe I'm distracted; I worked the Vikings Game yesterday/Sunday, and there was and is football and basketball to watch and listen to yesterday and today.

Or, maybe I'm sad.  I love anticipating great days because they are coming; you're just waiting for it to get here.  But once it is here, you know it's going to be gone at some point.  That always depresses me.  Something can't go away if it doesn't get here.  It can't die.  And so, as much as I am content right now, Christmas Day is, well, dying in front of my eyes.  And if it is, maybe I just want to get it over with -- you know, save myself arduously enduring its death so I can get on with my life, even if it is getting back to, ick, work.

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Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas, everyone.

I'm Right On Time This Week? Really?

Well, the unthinkable -- and according to my boss, the miraculous -- might be happening: With one day left in the shortened workweek, I have gotten out of work, in which I have been working in The Fourth Department, on time.  I mean I got in on time and left after exactly, exactly eight hours on the clock.  And to be honest, if I had my boss breathing down my neck about OT (he put in half a day on Tuesday before being off, but he comes back today/Friday), I could have left early all three days.

I don't think I'm "getting it."  Well, I've already "gotten it," and while I am somewhat amazed that a certain number of forms that would have made me stay late in the past is now a relatively easy task where I'm actually finishing up fairly quickly, I will still insist it's the meager workload that's allowing me to have a "normal" workweek.  I don't know what's going on in the lab, from which I receive my day's work, but I'm guessing that enough people are taking the week off that they're just not getting around to the work.  Or, maybe it's a chain-wide, nationwide slowdown in work.  What I think is happening (I wanted to check this before I left yesterday/Thursday, but heck, I would have had to stay late if I did) is that a crush of forms that I would normally receive in the middle of the afternoon simply hasn't come this week, or at least not to the extent where I would need to stay late.  I don't think that indicates mastery; it's more like mercy.

Let's see if this will happen today/Friday as well.  I think it will, but I'm afraid it won't, and I'll have to stay till 6:30 because I jinxed myself.

Addendum To: Addendum To: Addendum To: My Meeting In The Morning

Well, this has nothing to do with the meeting I had Wednesday morning, but it had plenty to do with the thing I said at the tail end of it, namely that my outburst would trigger some karma for me when I come in and work in The Fourth Department.  I stayed late by a bit more than an hour, but it was a shitty day, it truly was, for two reasons.  First, I can't remember a day where more e-mail addresses didn't work and bounced back on me.  There were, like, four of them, and so I needed to stay late and think about where else and, failing that, how else and even if I could request the information I need someplace else.

The other reason was one of these stupid goddamn curveballs, a situation where people wanted this test but we refused to give it to them, and I was communicating back and forth with several people about whether we could use this test instead.  Eventually I was told that was this customer wanted, this customer got.  The reason why was explained to me by my former supervisor who has moved to another department.  I don't get it, because if this test was good, and if this customer has always asked for it and always gotten it, why was I told they couldn't get it?  I don't want to even think about this problem anymore, but I know goddamn well this will be the first thing I'll have to re-confront when I walk through that door in the morning.  Fuck.

I really, really want to see this neutral women's volleyball Match between Pepperdine and Washington St. this evening.  But it starts at 5, and I am supposed to get out at 4:30, so getting there by the time the Match starts probably is a no-can-do, and if today is as bad as yesterday, the Match might be half or even more than half over by the time I get to Maturi.  (There's also a good chance it'll rain this evening, and so I'll face another should-I-or-shouldn't-I-go situation like I did last Week with the difference being there isn't a second Match to watch that makes walking through a potential storm worth it.)  And all because I (possibly?) raised some issues in a meeting with my boss and supervisor?  Great.

Addendum To: Addendum To: My Meeting In The Morning

So, that meeting happened yesterday/Wednesday morning ... and what was scheduled as only a half-hour meeting turned into an hour.  Guess I had something to say after all.

Really, though, I hope I didn't come off as complaining.  Turns out I did need to vent my spleen, however, and I guess I did get, uh, triggered when my supervisor wanted to talk about workload.  She communicated that she wanted to ensure that I understood the amount of work that typically comes with this job and, OK, I did get a bit defensive at that.  I told her that I was well aware of the amount of work, having needing to stay up to an extra two hours to finish on many days.  I am not completely sure she understands my thinking on that.  She seemed to keep saying that if I felt pinned down to reach out.  I think I let both my supervisor and my boss know that regardless of how I feel, if there is work that belongs to someone else, that work should go to that someone else.  The possible solution that I think was offered in the meeting, which I want to reach, are possible, uh, conclusions if the work gets to be overwhelming.

We'll see how well we understand each other, my supervisor and I, for I am in The Fourth Department today and tomorrow.  My boss tells me that I probably will be working at least a couple days there every week for the rest of my time at my company.  He also says he's trying to get permission to find a third person who will have the position similar to mine, and that would help.  Regardless, I hope my, uh, outburst yesterday didn't call for bad karma on me the rest of my workweek.

A First!

OK, so I dreaded working in the Fourth Department yesterday.  I have to say this: For the first time ever working by myself back there, I got out of there in time.  Yes, my friends, I actually pulled an eight-, and just an eight-, hour day!  Well, OK, I went over by, like, 20 minutes.  Seriously, though, I have not gotten anywhere near leaving after eight hours after a day in the Fourth Department, and besides, I usually stay an extra 20 minutes.  So this is like leaving early!

I was blessed with a light workload in a lot of areas.  I usually am bombarded for requests as to when a result for a test comes in.  Those usually take a lot of time researching and e-mailing people, and that's usually between tasks in which I am waist-deep.  Those tasks are usually faxing and e-mailing people to retrieve information that we need, and there are a lot of categories into which all these forms are separated into, I have to treat each category differently.  I'm usually inundated with so many forms in all categories that I sometimes nudge up to the ten-hour workday limit I have set for myself before I just have to leave and abandon the rest of the work I couldn't get to.

Well, the main reason I was able to leave on time was because I didn't get too many forms in any of the categories.  For example, we have to touch a form when we initially get them; there were only seven forms yesterday when I sometimes get up to two dozen.  After three days, we have to take another shot at contacting people to retrieve the missing information.  This category isn't too bad, and the four here is way manageable.  After five days we take a third and final swing and reach out to anybody who can tell us what the hell is missing.  There were seven of those, which actually is average.  Finally, if we do get responses, we have to process the forms.  That takes time, but I didn't get too many responses back.  That might be the end result of not sending out a whole lot of faxes and e-mails from the start, but regardless, I didn't get many responses back before I got to leave.

Another time suck with this job is just BS that comes up.  There sometimes are issues involving ... something where I am at a complete loss as to what to do.  In cases like this, I have to go to my supervisor and beg for her help.  And by the time I remember to do what she told me to do, I have to regather my bearings and remember where I left off.  That takes a lot of time; I think I likened that to spinning around an aircraft carrier at sea 180 degrees.  I just cannot think that fast or else I will completely miss steps and then sit there for several minutes figuring out what steps I missed, then take even more time to go back and do those steps.  Honestly, there were as much, if not more, of those stupid unicorn cases that it took most of the morning to start dealing with them.  Thank goodness, then, I didn't get as many requests or forms as I feared.  That meant that the time I had to borrow to deal with these special cases I made up by zipping through the relatively meager amount of forms and responses.

Finally, what I dread the most is having unpleasant interactions with prick clients.  There was one back-and-forth with some stubborn woman who would just not give me the code that I needed.  I e-mailed her back saying that the number she gave me was not in our system, to which she replied that I mixed it up with another number she gave me.  I think she thought she put one on me, but I replied that, while I did mix it up, the actual number she intended to give me also was not in our system.  Finally, someone from a different department in my company -- a person who this arrogant nutjob asked to "help me understand" all the wrong codes she gave me -- said that our laboratory did something wrong.  I've been replaying this insufferable woman's crap from time to time tonight, but I don't feel -- feel being the operative word -- as upset as I felt after dealing with this prick because here, a third party dropped in, deus ex machina style, and said a party beside me and this dumb lady made a mistake.  That absolves me of any responsibility.

Sure, she probably thinks I'm stupid.  She's wrong.  I think she's stupid.  I'm right.

---

So, with all that said, karma can be a bitch.  Everything I was spared from yesterday is coming back on me twice as hard and worse today, isn't it?

The Rest Of The Workweek Should Be A Breeze!

Monday was normal.  Well, it was on the meager side; it got to the point where work was so slow that we were sent into the lab to do stuff.  I don't like doing that, but hey, it's part of the job.

Tuesday was the most hectic day of the week, probably.  I was up on my feet scanning forms in the afternoon, and that's a lot, but it's something I know to do, and I don't have to communicate with anybody else (well, not really) in order to do my job.

Moreover, I brought in fancy chocolate for the two big rooms I work in, out in keying and the actual room where my other three positions reside.  I hadn't brought in fancy chocolate in a while, and so I thought it was time.  I've been worried in the past because there would be a bunch of chocolates left over after I present them early in the day, as if they didn't really like the chocolate I bring.  My supervisor also brings out chocolate, and the group usually plows through them by the end of the day.  I have a theory: The ones she brings are the fun size, well-known brands that are individually wrapped.  My fancy ones are unwrapped and come on their own doilies.  Maybe people are freaked out over the unwrapped chocolates and think unwrapping their own ensures they're fresh, or even safe?  Or, maybe they know a Snickers or a 3 Musketeers but don't know the high-end boutique chocolatiers that I buy from.  Yeah, maybe it's that.

Anyway, for the data entry room/hallway, at the end of the day (I don't know how the other people in the other room liked it; unlike data entry, which I doled out around 10, I gave theirs at the end of the day simply because I was too busy), out of the box of 16 chocolates, only two were left over when my day was done.  We actually had a long day that nearly all of us had to stay after for because the work didn't get done in time.  I kind of think that those people were finally relieved to leave, and so treated themselves with a chocolate.  Well, maybe that, or maybe it was the fact that my supervisor called in sick.  Since she usually brings in chocolate, we would have been out of chocolate if not for me.  Therefore, maybe they were desperate for any chocolate.

I'm bringing in a lot of threads here, so forgive me for jumping around.  My supervisor still remains cold with me.  I guess we're just not people on the same wavelength.  It is what it will be.  But I wonder if she was going to get all pissy with me bringing in chocolate if she were to do the same thing.  So I got a break in not needing to, well, compete with her.  I gave out my chocolate, the co-workers seemed to like it, and at the end of the day, I ate the two pieces left over in my car before I left the parking lot.

Oh, and another thing.  My supervisor wasn't the only person who called in sick.  The other girl with whom I do not get along also called in sick yesterday.  I'm sure she wouldn't go for the chocolate, and I'm sure I wouldn't care.  But without her there, there was zero chance I would have a run-in with her.

So, to sum up Tuesday: The two people I have clashed with the most just happened to call in sick, and I was the one to supply chocolate to the group, which appears to have been warmly received.  Those two people might have been back to work today ... but I wouldn't know nor care, because I took the day off!  And for tomorrow and Friday, I won't have to work next to them because I am working in My Favorite Department the rest of the week!  Where I likely will have only one job!  And I get to sleep in!  And then go off in the evening and do my own thing!

Now, to sum up my whole week: It's a fantastic workweek!  I don't have to compete for people's affinity for chocolate, my co-workers like the chocolate I bought, the people I don't get along with are there when I'm not and vice versa (that's a fantastic series of coincidences that might not ever happen again), and the work, while busy at times, is manageable.  Throw in that I'm only working four days this week, and this workweek is bliss.  I have to stop and appreciate how lucky and fortunate I am.

Of course, things could go south if something unexpected happens the rest of the week.  Maybe I have willed that into existence just by blog posting this?

Car-ma

After work and eating at Jimmy John's, I wanted to blow off some steam by walking around the Sculpture Garden in the dark.

I was wrapping up my walk.  Going up the sidewalk to where I parked my car on the street, a car came, stopped, and began to back up in front of the front-most car in order to park.  This car came in hot, and then this dipshit driver began to back up faster than he should have.  He was swerving his steering wheel back and forth, but he wasn't slowing down.  Well, he did slow down after he hit the car behind him.  And he hit it hard.  And he hit it, oh, six feet away from where I just stopped and stood, looking at what the fuck he just did.

The asshole driver got out.  I looked at him for a semi-second.  He then went to the back to see the damage he did.  I glanced at the driver's license.  I saw that the car he hit, like his car, was kind of shitty.  I thought, for a semi-second, that I should call out the idiot for what he did.  But then, finally, I just walked away.  What could I do?  Scream at the guy?  Take a photo of the guy's license plate?  It's the pussy way of thinking, but what if he had a gun?

Walking up to my car, there was another person who had stepped out.  I believe she heard the accident if she didn't see it.  I guess I looked at her because I needed to know that someone else was witness to this bizarre incident.  The guy, by the way, didn't drive off.  I don't know what he was doing, but he was still there when I drove off.

And when I drove off, I thought to myself, "I'm gonna get it.  Because I didn't make that guy pay for hitting that car, my car is gonna get hit."

Well, fast forward to this afternoon.  I stopped by a park to get one more good, autumn walk in; this apparently is going to be The Last Good Weekend Of The Year because the snow and cold is coming in later this workweek.

Going back to my car, I noticed a couple black spots in the front of my car, just above the license plate.  Was it just dirt?  Nope.  Course not.  It was the body of my car.  The silver paint was scraped off because some motherfucker backed into my car.  I could see scrape marks around it.

Now, did it happen as a result of me not doing anything about the accident I saw?  That could have happened before Friday.  But ... I like to think I am an observant person, and I don't think I saw that any scrape marks before then.  And, I went downtown and parked on the street after walking at the Sculpture Garden.

Karma did come back to bite me, didn't it?

Goddammit.  But what the hell was I supposed to do?  Call the cops?

Evil Won Tonight

I guess I was expecting too much from the day when working in The Fourth Department was, shockingly and miraculously, stress-free.

After work (where I stayed an extra hour for overtime) I voted for local school board, then went to watch Shang-Chi And The Ten Rings (it finished well, culminating in a hell of a fight featuring two serpents; frankly, it wasn't funny till one big joke in the mid-credits interstitial).  Driving home, local cop cars were stationed, cherries flashing, down just about every cross street, including the one I needed to go down to get home.  I circled around to get around the, uh, blockade, but I saw another cop car right kitty-corner from the house, anchoring the nearest cross-street from us.  I dashed in in case some guy wanted to take me hostage or something.

I dashed downstairs to makes sure my parents were alright, then went up to my bed to scroll on my phone.  When I hit my Twitter, I remembered that it was Election Day ... and then I saw tweets suggesting that in the big individual contest of the night, Governor of Virginia, the Democratic challenger lost to the racist Republican Trump cocksucker.  Devastating night, one that snowballed (at least in the political realm) to include a tie in the Virginia House Of Delegates and, at least as of press time, a way too tight race for Governor of New Jersey.

The polls for both governors races showed both leading their Rethug stooge.  That one won and the other might reinforces a fear that I began to have after Trump and the Republicans stole the 2016 election (and they did, don't lie, if they didn't they wouldn't be projected how we won the 2020 presidency even though we won fair and square): Polls will no longer be accurate because Republican voters now willingly refuse to tell pollsters they are voting Rethug.  I'm guessing that those people equate pollsters with The Media, and so they will lie to them because they don't trust them.  This is the fourth straight cycle in which Republicans overperformed compared to poll results, and is the only reason I can reasonably settle on.  It'll get to the point where, if polls taken just before Election Day show the Democrat up by five points, that candidate will lose.  It feels like that margin of error has to be baked in now, I'm afraid.

For all the finger-pointing about how the Democratic nominee was weak, or any bullshit talk about centrists-vs.-progressives, there has been a continuing burble about how The Media failed to tell the facts about these Rethug candidates.  I don't know if I've said this before, but even if I have: You fucking people who want to make The Media the whipping person for every bad thing that happens to Democrats makes you no better than the Republicans who are successfully eroding journalism in order to warp the concept of facts themselves.  This isn't The Media's fault.  Well, they could do better.  But I know that Republicans these days are nothing but white supremacists who only want to gain power and line their pockets by rich oligarchs to whom they will whore.  People who know and fear that this country is marching toward a dictatorship know where the evil lies.  I don't fucking need no goddamn Media to tell me that people love fascism.  The facts are there for all to see.  Shit, man, you can see the inability for these Rethugs to govern is there as soon as they open up their fucking mouths and spew their racist, cruel, insulting shit for all to hear.  Why in the goddamn hell do you insist The Media needs to tell you what you can see right in front of you?!  You're supposed to be a smart, informed, curious citizen of (supposedly) The World's Greatest Democracy -- find out for your own goddamn self!!!

It's not The Media's fault.  And it ain't "messaging" because if you cared about what's going on in this country and its people, you won't get snowed under by what "narratives" Republicans and Democrates tell you and instead just look at the facts.  It's the fault of, in order: Dictator-loving Rethugs who will lie and grift in order to win races; stupid motherfucking Republican "people" who are too brain-dead to think for themselves and are now only motivated by fear and hate to notice that the people who they vote for couldn't give two shits about them; and, frankly, Democratic voters who love to vote for the shiny object of United States President but couldn't be bothered to get off their fat asses, put on some pants and go down to their precinct to vote against Trump and the people who want to kiss his fat ass.  And now, evil has prevailed because good people did nothing.  Great.  Just fucking great.

---

Oh, to compound this good day-turned-bad night, The Bastard Boston-By-Way-Of-Milwaukee Braves won the World Series.  I watched maybe, total, two Minutes of it.  Atlanta versus Houston?  More like racists versus cheaters.  And the racists won.  I couldn't give less of a rat's ass about this World Series, and I'm glad I skipped it.

But then I remembered what happened with Atlanta.  They were supposed to have the All-Star Game this Year, but Major League Baseball moved it to Colorado because the state government began (and eventually passed) legislation to suppress the votes of Black people in the state of Georgia.  So now the nitwits who do The Chop and then say, "Me?  Racist??  Wha???" now see this as karma for MLB so arrogantly taking away their All-Star Game.

It gets worse than that, however.  When you conflate this supposed repudiation of a move of this size over an important political (and racial) issue with a team that has been criticized for perpetuating racism, and then that team wins a championship, these Atlanta numbskulls will then be emboldened to do The Chop even more.  They'll move the goalposts in order to maintain their tradition -- it can't be racist because I know I'm not racist, and even if it is racist, so what, whatcha gonna do?  It's a bad faith, selfish argument that Donald Trump used every day he occupied the presidency ... and wouldn't you know it, that gelatinous piece of shit was in Atlanta the other night, doing The Chop because he thinks Native Americans are inferior to him.  Those fans in the stands feel the same way.  Many of them would like for him to occupy the presidency again.  In fact, some of them probably think he still is President.

(By the way, I'm not saying The Houston Asterisks/Trashstros are the good guys here.  Fuck, that Gurriel mothefucker made fun of Asians, so he's fuckin' dead to me.  Those trash can-banging cheaters have no moral leg to stand on.  But I have to admit that in the grand scheme of things, cheating to win baseball Games pales in comparison to, you know, making fun of other races.  But like I alluded to before, I was hoping both teams would lose the World Series.)

Republicans sweep into power.  The baseball team in Atlanta wins the title.  Both entities are buoyed by thoughtless, vicious automatons who couldn't give a fuck about you if you're not White.  All those assholes are on top of the world right now.  Yes, evil won tonight.  And good lost, sadly and utterly.

Six Months Down, Six Months To Go

So in the fall of last year I was, obviously, renewing my health insurance.  When I got it for 2019 (which I signed up for when I started work there in 2018) I got the Cadillac plan -- high premiums for high deductibles, but more than any of the other plans available I got everything covered.

Why did I get the gold plan?  I don't know.  Maybe I was in a rush.  Or, maybe I knew I was in a rush and wouldn't have time to think this over, and so I got the most expensive plan just to cover everything I didn't have time to mull over.

Nothing extraordinary happened last year.  I had my usually doctor's and dentist's visits, saw my therapist, and got my nasal allergy medicine, but that's what happens every year, and so, even though I had peace of mind, there was no catastrophic accident that would have made me count my blessings that I upgraded my health insurance.  Therefore, back in the fall, I decided I would get the bronze plan, the cheapest available (well, the cheapest available from the health insurance company my psychologist prefers), the one with the highest deductible but the lowest premiums.

But should I have?  I was scared that karma and bad luck would mean that I would get into a car accident, be felled by a heart attack, need to go on medication for a chronic condition that developed this year, or something else crappy.  And then I would rue all the out-of-pocket costs I would have to pay but would not have had to shell out had I stayed on the Cadillac plan.  In the end, though, I figured that I was healthy enough whereby that decline in my health would not happen.  Besides, the money I saved in premiums would more than offset any new medicines or surprise visits to the doctor I would have had to pay out this year.

Well, all of that thinking sure as shit didn't take into account a pandemic for a virus that could kill or at least maim people for many, many years.  Some states, including Minnesota, are bending over backwards to help defray the costs associated with COVID-19, from antigen tests to the hundreds of thousands of dollars for long-term ICU treatment.  But I still have to think that the out-of-pocket costs would, in the long run, save me more money had I stayed on the gold plan and not switched to the bronze plan.

My reticence never really faded away when I decided on getting the cheapest health insurance.  My anxiety was compounded exponentially once the coronavirus hit.  So besides the other reasons to be scared of this virus, I'm afraid that if I get this, it'll wipe me out financially.  And that is why I take so many precautions in order to say away from this evil thing.

In a sense, I am counting down the days.  With June 30 in the rear view mirror, I am halfway through living life on the edge/on a bronze plan.  I just need to make it six more months, and then I'll be a good boy and pay the highest premiums for the best health coverage from now on.  Wish me luck.

The Only Good Thing About That Shit-Ass Game Last Night

So Allianz Field was giving out these bracelets that light up in unison according to what the, uh, stadium production crew wants to do, which is sort of dependent on the play on the field and the chanting from the Wonderwall.  It should have blew up in smoke after the Loons fucking shit the bed at home against the Galaxy.  Instead, I noticed that after leaving that abortion of a game and walking towards my car in the residential area north of Allianz that the bracelets others are wearing (I put mine away as soon as the Galaxy scored the first Goal) that it was still lighting up blue.  How can the production crew still make the bracelets light up after we've leaf the stadium?

And I was freaking out/pissed off when I got home and the bracelet was still a solid blue.  I wanted to go to sleep and forget that loss!  How in the hell can I do that if this damn souvenir of a disappointment was lit up in blue?  So I went to Twitter to make sure that other people were having the, uh, same problem, and asked what the hell to do.  One person answered: Take out the battery, you moron.  There's a battery in the bracelet?  Oh, there's a battery in the bracelet.  Two of them, in fact, and after some trouble I was able to open the cover and take them out.

And these are the disc/hearing aid type of batteries.  Which got me to thinking.  A couple months ago I had to switch car fobs because the one I had wouldn't remote open because of ... the battery.  I went to Target to get some, but I couldn't find the exact type of battery for the fob.  I was so flummoxed that I really thought I would have to order them through Amazon, but I just switched out fobs and hoped that I would remember to get the right battery before that fob ran out of juice also.

I looked at the etching on the two batteries I popped out of the bracelet.  I had a good feeling.  I got the fob with the worn-out battery and jimmied it open.  And the battery in the fob was the exact same type of battery that the bracelet was powered with!  I got a new battery for my key fob!!  And I have a spare for the other key fob when its battery dies, too!!!  If I bought two batteries they would cost me, what, $20, maybe?

Anyway, without me doing any more work or spending any more cash, I got not one, but two batteries that I needed for my car key fob.  And I was able to disable the bracelet that is a painful reminder of what I witnessed last night in the process.  Maybe karma did me a solid this one time!

Where Not Brushing My Teeth Finally Comes Back To Haunt Me

For the first time this winter, I think, I feel a stinging or a numbness on my right front tooth.  I really feel this sensation when cold air brushes around it, so it's at its worst when I'm, say, breathing in when I'm walking outside.

I don't think it's a sign of getting old.  I think it's gum disease, or some other disease I could have prevented if I actually brushed my teeth every day, as I should.  But I don't, and I haven't.  I don't remember ever routinely brushing my teeth.  I remember my parents teaching me once, and like the dick I was, I cried and refused to do it, and so I have brushed my teeth occasionally, or when I can, ever since.

And now is the comeuppance.  I'm sure of that.  And my years of not brushing my teeth on the regular will probably result in Alzheimer's, if this study is found to be true.  And it would be my fault.

Expenses Without Receipt

I know I shouldn't be starting/ending any EWR in the middle of a trip, but I think I should nip this in the bud and not delay doing this any longer.  Starting from Thursday, June 7:

• I had to go to a strip club while I'm here in Denver, so after looking through TUSCL I decided I would go to PT's because they say it's the best for mileage.  Didn't get that from Emerald, but she was still a sweetheart.  In fact, her grind of a dance saved me from what was a strange and lonely experience.  I cannot say I was treated badly.  I think I gave off the vibe I wanted to be left alone, and so I was.  But I don't know if that's what I wanted.  Anyway, cover and tips means that my day here totaled: $144.
• But I found a dime on the carpet of one of the stages, an Infusion of: 10 cents.
• I then went to the nearby Wal-Mart because I needed batteries for my camera and a Coke for me.  Wal-Mart takes a piece of your soul every time you walk in, but hey, their cans are only: 50 cents.
• On Monday Wednesday the 6th I started out my day going to a Caribou closer to my shrink.  Had to tease out my time there; got an oatmeal, and then an hour later I got a medium dark roast.  I needed the coffee later because I wanted to use the rest of my creamer, the stuff I didn't use while I was working, that I brought with me.  I poured it in the car.  With tip: $6.35.
• In the afternoon I went to the library to print out my airline ticket and my receipt # for the Rockies game.  Total: 20 cents.
• Monday the 4th: I went to the dentist's that day.  Had an incident where the LRT ticket vendor took my two bucks but wouldn't take my quarters, so I hopped on the train without a ticket.  I figured it took my two bucks.  Had to spend a return ticket when I went from the dentist to downtown Minneapolis, so I spent a total on transportation: $4.
• Went downtown to get my shoes shined from Lisa.  With tip: $15.
• I then went to Bogart's at the close-by kiosk for a doughnut.  Funny story: While I was walking out with my buttercreme filled, I looked across the street.  It is Metro Transit.  I had time to go in and complain about the machine that took my money without giving me a ticket.  In ten minutes I was given a free voucher for an amount I did not hear clearly.  And there was balance in the world.  What if I didn't get that doughnut?  Thank you, Bogart's!  With tip: $4.
• Sunday, June 3 ... went to Caffetto in the morning.  Got a large mocha.  Usually don't get caffeine during the weekend, but I figure I can have some on this day because I will be at the dentist, and therefore would not be having coffee, Monday.  Plus tip: $6.
• Went to the final two games of the Minneapolis Regional of the NCAA Baseball Tournament at Siebert.  As I say, there are many worse ways to spend a waking day on this earth than at the ballpark.  Coke because the lines were too long for a hot dog: $4.75.
• To celebrate the Golden Gophers winning the Regional, I went to My Favorite Stripclub (Non-Cover Division).  You know, I think I spoke about a girl that I saw on an earlier trip being someone I lost touch with several years ago.  Well, she was working, and yes, it was that girl.  She goes by a different name now, and she may be randier than I thought she would be, judging by the type of dance she gave me!  It's like reaching back into the past and seeing someone that remind you of better days.  With tips and coffee I spent: $34.
• On Saturday the 2nd I went to the library to print out the tickets to the baseball tournament games: 20 cents.
• Finally, on Tuesday, May 29, I finally went to the new theater at the Mall of America.  Very swanky, and I liked the screen where I saw Avengers: Infinity War.  I went there because tickets on Tuesdays are only five bucks.  Also, popcorn is only four.  Drinks, however, are neither amount.  They are close to seven.  That ain't much of a steal for a Tuesday deal.  Total: $16.35.

As depressed as I am right now, I think it's time I go out and do something.

Good through June 7.

A Sign That The World Is Out To Get Me

It wasn't a good day for me.  Fearing how My Fucking Mother is going to come at me, or the thought of coming home to see all my stuff out in the driveway, or have both parents at the dining room table, presented with a pamphlet for this nice and affordable apartment I can move into (that thought still can happen, and that frightens me to tears) occupied my mind so much that my work suffered.

So I didn't need the world or karma or whatever it is piling on with this oddly coincidental story that broke yesterday about a 30-year-old ordered by a judge to leave his parents' house.  (I won't link to it, nor will I read it.  It hurts too much to even think of it.)  I know my folks saw this story and thought of me.  They don't need any fucking ideas.