Addendum To: No One Tells Me Anything

Oh yeah, I wasn't told that someone was going to drop by and plop a new tree in the front yard, either!  I talked to the Head of Forestry for my city (yes, my city has a Head of Forestry) because I was curious as to what kind of species this tree is.  I left a message when I called the city on Friday; I got a return voicemail at work yesterday/Monday, and I left a VM, and he called back.  Before he told me what tree he selected for our residence, he told me that we should've gotten a letter saying that a tree was going to be planted soon.  Nope, I didn't get a letter.  Now, I did get a letter earlier this year saying, albeit after the fact, that they removed the stump from the old tree that they removed around the holidays and that it was our responsibility to water the grass seeds they put in place of the stump (I didn't do that; I might blog post about why some other time).  But like I said, even though the markings of gas and water lines should have tipped me off, the city did not warn me ahead of time that they were planting a tree.

Yep, no one tells me anything.  That makes me scared that my parents will come home, again, and not tell me beforehand.

No One Tells Me Anything

I woke up on my own accord Friday morning anticipating the sprinkler guy to come.  Frankly, I couldn't begin my day off from work until he came over to winterize the system.  I was getting antsy, but I took the time in the morning to water the plants and work on stuff on my computer.  Then, as it got to the late morning, I figured I could give the tree that magically appeared in the front yard that morning some more water beyond what is encased in that plastic bag around the 8' tree.

It was a bit past 11:30, when I put the sprinkler system through its third cycle of watering that tree, that I suddenly heard the doorbell ring followed immediately by banging on the door.  It was the sprinkler guy.  Not of fan of how he announced he was here, but considering he was courteous yet fast, and that he recommended I trade in the old backflow plug for a new one made of brass, I can't complain.  I was on my way half past noon.

The only lingering issue I have is something I have asked the sprinkler company every year I call in and pay for the winterization.  I always ask that the driver call or text me ahead of time.  That way I, at the very least, will be awake for when he comes.  That courtesy isn't always given, and this dude didn't do it either, or else I wouldn't have had the sprinkler system on when he got here.

A bit later in the day I realized that fit a pattern.  The sprinkler guy didn't tell me he was coming before he did, like I asked.  The previous day, the inspector climbed on top of the house even though I told the roofer I was going to come home to open the side door for him.  And of course there's Mother, who told me that the inspector was coming less than one day before.  No one tells me anything, or at least won't tell me anything till the last minute, well past any time I could prepare for it.  And I fucking hate that.  I mean, what the hell is wrong with letting me prepare, goddammit?  (sigh)

For The First Time In A Long Time, I'm Trying Something New

I will be working a game today, and I will be working as a parabolic microphone holder, or a "parab."  I don't know if you've seen these people holding these clear, curved cups or dishes in front of them, but today, that'll be me.  It is my first time ever being a parab, and it's scaring the hell out of me, but I think that is the definition of "growth," such as it is.

Strange how I got this job.  I've worked this type of production before, but while I knew the company would be in town, they had not said they were hiring until this week, and technically Wednesday, three days before the game.  Then, I was sent an e-mail asking for people who could be parabs and, this is important (at least in my mind), no experience is necessary.  You don't come across opportunities like that too often, especially at my age.  But I wanted to demonstrate I wanted to be a part of this company's production, and the pay is pretty good.  Plus, I need to spread my wings a bit.  I don't work games from the sideline too often, so this will be fun to experience.  Well, until a football player runs into me.  That's what I'm really scared of.

Anyway, I answer this e-mail that I am interested.  I then go through e-mails I received after that ... and that's when I see an offer to work this same production, but in a capacity I've worked at before.  I said yes to this, but the person making hiring decisions texted me and said I'm working the parabolic.  OK, but what about this other job?  I would prefer to continue on a position I've done with these guys before, so now that I'm not, am I showing this production that I'm flexible, or has a door been shut because I go through e-mails in order, answer them one by one, and was pegged to the first job I said yes to?  Because I know there are a few people there I'm familiar with, and it'll be strange to see them where they always are and I am not, and I have no assurances I can go back to my old job ever again.

I get uncomfortable in unfamiliar surroundings, and that's why I'm getting a bit testy.  This will always happen when I go to somewhere new, but I don't know where I'll be today, I don't know who I'll work for, and so I don't know how it'll turn out.  I know how things are with the position I've been at before, but I don't understand how I wasn't even considered to come back.  Because I would have said yes, they just didn't say anything until three days ago.

Well, alas and alack.  I have a few hours before I need to report.  Maybe not the best idea, then, to blog post now, and then eat those leftover mozzarella sticks from Applebee's Thursday night.  (I'm chasing them down with a Coke at 2 in the morning as well.)  But I was crashing around 7 in the evening, so I listened to my body and went to sleep, only to wake up a bit past midnight.  Hopefully I won't be asleep as I stand during the game.  That's a surefire way to be tackled by a football player on the sideline.

And My Weekend Is Busy, Too

Admittedly, I am filling it up with stuff I want to do in order to push out things I think I should do.  I thought this would be the weekend I would finally figure out the right arc for some of the sprinkler heads I've been working on.  Also, even though it's been really dry, maybe I should mow the yellow lawn.  And I should get around to my clothes and dishes ... and, oh yeah, my stuff.

But then I remembered that there is a house party on Saturday.  The cover's expensive as hell, and there's only one chick I care to see there, but ******e has invited me for a while and I haven't been there yet this calendar year, so it's time I go.  But there's also Porchfest, where bands play in front of houses in the Wedge neighborhood.  And then MNUFC is playing -- it's on the road, but I figure I would go to a watch party sponsored by the club at least once this season, and I'm doing so at a restaurant I haven't ever been to but have wanted to go to for some time, so that's extra enticement.  Then, tomorrow/Sunday afternoon, the Gopher women's soccer team is hosting Georgia.  Normally the U. hosts smaller colleges from the region, so having a brand-name school from the SEC (let alone a ranked one -- Gophers will have their hands full) come to Robbie Stadium to play is a special event to go to, and so I will be going.

By the way, one of my stripper girlfriends, *****a, needed help moving things Sunday afternoon.  I thought I could reach her through Messenger, but apparently I can only contact her now through Instagram, of which I don't have a personal account.  I would love to help, but since there apparently is no way to reach her, I can't help her.  Shucky darn!

So with all of that, I figure I could fix the sprinklers either Sunday morning or, if I'm not awake in time, after I come back.  I thought I should exercise in the evening, but I'm still not sure they're open, so maybe that sprinkler-fixing and, possibly, mowing will serve as my workout.  Or maybe I won't do those things ... which means I'll be spending this weekend having fun and not doing things I need to do.  Shucky darn!

Making My Schedule Based On Time, Money, Car Vibes, And Semen

Fitting my schedule to accommodate chores, outings, and time with my stripper girlfriends have just overwhelmed me.  I need to budget my time, I need to make sure I have enough money to do everything I want to do, I'm getting kind of freaked out over driving everywhere because of the obscene price of gasoline, and, most important of all, I need to make sure I'm able to cum on demand.

It's the stripper girlfriends where all of this comes to a head (in a manner of speaking).  I wanted to get with ****e for the longest time, and I thought last weekend was it, but she didn't answer my texts in a timely manner.  Finally, last weekend she said that this weekend was good.  After some back-and-forth, I am supposed to see her tomorrow/Sunday.  Then, ***e* blindsided me by telling me she was in town this weekend and wants to cum visit.  Not a great time, but I slotted her in for this/Saturday morning.  I don't know if my penis can perform back-to-back, but consider ***e* is only here this weekend and I already promised ****e, I kind of have to turn back the clock.

On top of all that, I've been going back-and-forth with my ATF regarding a massage.  I thought Monday would work, but when I texted her that I would be home Monday, my goddamn cellphone auto-corrected it to I would be gone Monday.  I caught it last/Friday night and said that I could be available after the weekend, and she apparently agreed.  Phew!  (By the way, if my ATF surprises me by doing something freaky, it won't matter that I shot the day before.  I know that, even in my advanced age, surprising trysts with women for the first time will have me ejaculating left and right!)

Now, beyond having fun (which seems kind of forced right now), I have things I need to do -- stuff like getting a shave, replenishing my alcohol, and seeing my junior prom date at the cemetery.  But before all that, I have stuff around the house I need to do -- stuff like getting my irrigation system up and running and, more importantly, cleaning my outdoor condenser unit.  Summer jumped me this week, and even though I partly am backing off on turning on the air conditioner because I don't want to spend money (being the primary caretaker of a house now turns you into a miser, believe me), I think it's high time I clean the outdoor condenser.  After all, my ATF should be giving me a rubdown on Monday, and I want her to be as comfortable as possible.  Running a fan won't be enough to cool her down, and besides, I want to close the windows in case she touches me to the point where I start screaming.

But I've never done it before.  I've looked through the YouTube videos, and I know I should clean out the debris that's inside it, then use a cleaner to clean the coils from the inside out, then use a hose to rinse it from the inside out.  But, they suggest I cut the power.  And even though I have turned off both the thermostat and the AC, I have no idea how to cut off power from the circuit breaker right next to the condenser unit.  I open up the cover and all I see is a metal loop.  What the hell is that?  Oh, well.  I think I am going to try and clean everything after I just turn off the AC and thermostat.

Oh, wait ... I can't hose the unit down after I clean everything because I haven't connected the water yet.  And I can't do that until I screw the nut into the, um, thingy that was pulled out in the fall in order to winterize our irrigation system.  I tried screwing it by hand, but I can't screw it in tight, so some time this/Saturday afternoon I am going to get a wrench and twist it in.  Then, I can use the water, and then I can begin cleaning the condenser because I can then rinse it.  Will I get this all done in one afternoon?  Who knows?  I might screw up, or hesitate at a step and decide screw it, I'll just turn the whole AC on.  I'm keeping my options open.

How does driving fit into this?  Shaving involves me driving in one direction, shopping for alcohol and visiting my deceased prom date means I need to drive in the other.  I do not want to drive both directions this/Saturday afternoon, especially if I need to do this thing with the condenser and irrigation system.  Since I'm seeing a friend next week, I think I'll get my shave and do everything else next weekend.  I think.  I'm keeping my options open!

Yeah, I'm busy.  And I haven't even mentioned sleep.  I want to budget one day where I can sleep in.  But I have to get up at a certain time to make sure I go out to the bank to get money today/Saturday to pay ***e*, and then I have to wake up at a certain time tomorrow/Sunday to drive over to ****e's place because she asked me to.  I won't like being woken up by an alarm up to a dozen days in a row (through next Saturday, when I'm supposed to meet this long-lost friend for which I'm getting my face shaved).

Gosh, I'm dealing with a lot of moving pieces I need to fit over the next two weeks -- and that's just for now, who knows what else is coming down the pike.  I know it's not serious in the big picture, but right now it feels serious to me.

Boss Back On His Bullshit Again

Well, I guess it was going to happen some time.  Over the weekend, after yet another week of staying late, he finally e-mailed me "worried" about my work.  Not necessarily that I'm working late, but that I am leaving so much left over after working late.

I wanted to respond immediately.  This, at first blush, was another of those, "Why in the hell are you working so long?" e-mails that would have made me snap.  But I didn't want to say anything I'll regret, and I really wanted to tell him off about all this shit I have to do -- shit, by the way, he doesn't know how to do.  But I needed to stop and think, two things too many people in this country don't do.  I think he understands that there's a lot to do in The Third Department (although he pointed out that, in winding language, my co-workers don't stay late and I do -- I think I'll have to let that slide).  He said that my supervisor asked me on Friday if I needed help and I said no.  Now, I don't remember what I said on Friday -- not only because I read the e-mail yesterday/Monday, but also because my hair is on my fire whenever I start working in The Third Department, so I won't know what I said to anybody there a minute after I say it.

The big takeaway I think I get from him is that he is surprised that, even after staying late, there was so much other stuff to do.  This ties back into all the shit I have to do in this position.  But there is another dimension to my work, namely what do I need to do before I leave at the end of the day and what can wait till the next day.  Frankly, I don't think there's much I want to leave till the next day.  If I do leave it till tomorrow, I'll just, you know, have to do it tomorrow, along with all the other shit that comes in that day.  Why not just do it before the next day?  But in his e-mail to me, my boss detailed a lot of things I didn't get around to that he thought I would.  Beyond not having the time, many of those are tasks I thought I could put off till the next day.  That's partially why I told my supervisor I was good.  Again, I'm not one to tide stuff over to the next day.  But at some point even I have to call it quits, and without a natural stopping point, I feel there are some tasks that don't have to get done right then and there.  I believe I was told as much, but apparently my boss thinks otherwise.

This brings up a lack of communication of how The Third Department is now supposed to go.  My boss said a few months ago that he did not want us staying late.  But in this e-mail, he wants me to do all the things that I left after I left work on Friday.  So which one is it?  I haven't been sat down by my boss or my supervisor (who didn't acknowledge me at all yesterday/Monday and may be pissed at me for all the shit I left over on Friday because she might have needed to do them on Saturday) and told this specific task can wait and this specific task cannot.  There are a lot of things I could use more direction on, but everybody seems to be so damn busy, I didn't bring it up until problems came to a head.

I'll look at his e-mail again.  But I'll "invite more discussion" on what should be taken care of and what can wait.  Maybe this will smooth things over.  But when I initially read the e-mail, I thought that I need to go on a job search again, just to cover my ass.  And I still think that's a good idea.

Beyond yesterday's inexcusable Loss, I checked one of my e-mails just now and saw that a fellow alum had a layover at MSP and wondered if he could come up to downtown to watch with us.  He e-mailed just as I was preparing to leave, and frankly, it never dawned on me to check that e-mail all day.  But dammit, I feel so bad not returning his e-mail until now.  I hope he's not mad.

No One Calling

Tuesday evening I was expecting to talk to this guy from this group from which someone nominated me to a position on the board of directors, anonymously.  I had my earbuds in and everything, waiting for him to call.  But he never did.

He did, however, e-mail me.  And he said he did call.  So I apologized and swore I would find a new time to speak with him about this position.  And then I went to my list of Google Voice calls (do y'all have Google Voice?) and saw that this person did call me, at our appointed time, and left a voicemail.  He didn't screw me over or forget.  If anything, my goddamn phone doesn't work because it should have rung when this guy called in and it didn't.  Seriously, I was on my phone, scrolling through social media, for an hour waiting for him to finally reach out to me.  So it's the phone's fault I am not hearing the phone ring, even though it's, you know, a cellphone.

Apparently, I Hurt Someone's Feelings And I Didn't Even Know It

So I've got a big to-do today/Saturday that's alumni-related.  I have been talking to a fellow alum who is part of the organization we're volunteering for.  It's been tough finding time to talk to him, but he is marketing this app with this organization, and we've been volunteering with that organization for a while, so I talked to him online.

And then we didn't talk.  I thought about speaking with him as our event was coming up, but I had work and then the jobs at Target Center and then my uncle died and then my parents came home ... just a bunch of shit rolled up on me, and so I thought to reconnoiter with him just before the event, or just about now.

So yesterday/Friday afternoon I see that he e-mailed me.  He talked about a bunch of stuff about his app and thanked me for helping him troubleshoot it.  But in the end of this long and involved message, he said something that has thrown me for a loop.  He said that I removed him from "the group," but he doesn't hold any animosity towards me.  And he hopes we can work together in the future.

I have no fucking idea what the hell he's talking about.  And if you can place yourself in my shoes, please understand the panic I instantly felt when this ... guy/fellow alum made this ... declaration/accusation out of the blue.  I expected to see this guy for a big meeting before our volunteering event is about to begin today, because he is supposed to make a speech touting this app for which he is shepherding.  I had been looking forward to seeing him.  Now, I can't afford to avoid seeing him.  And apparently, I hurt his feelings.

And I don't know how.  I don't know what "group" he is specifically talking about.  I have an e-mail group of alumni to which I sent out messages about events, such as this one.  I sent one out earlier this week, and I checked that his e-mail address was one I sent it to.  I sent another one, about a game-watching event I'm doing for women's basketball after our event, and I made sure he got that, too.  Is he talking about the e-mail list?  Because I simply can't believe I removed him.

But after sleeping on it, he might be talking about volunteering for the event itself.  One of the things we did while on the Zoom was fiddle around with the organization's reservation system.  He put his name in our group.  I thought he was just doing it to begin a troubleshooting exercise.  I swear he never said anything about actually wanting to volunteer with us.  Also, I swear that some time after our online meeting and I started putting names onto my list of reservations (which is something you're supposed to do for this organization), I did not see his name anymore.  I assumed he took himself off the list.  I know it's in my nature to leave things as they are.  Again, I was under the impression that he was just putting his name in there just because, but I would not remove his name unless I had other people who genuinely wanted to volunteer and I had no more spaces available.  At that point, I would have e-mailed and asked if he really wanted to volunteer with us, and if his name was just an exercise, whether it would be OK if I took his name off the reservation.

That, however, didn't happen.  Again, his name just disappeared, and I thought it disappeared because he deleted his own name.  But if this is the "group" he says I removed him from, I don't know how his name got deleted.  So I frantically replied to him about an hour after he apparently sent this e-mail, profusely apologizing for what I could have done wrong (even though I have done nothing wrong) and hoping we can iron out any differences or misinterpretations when we see each other this afternoon.  He hasn't answered back.

Well, fuck, this is going to be awkward as shit.  I need to hope to hell I get there early enough, and he gets there early enough, for us to talk about what did or didn't happen.  Otherwise, I am going to run into some guy who's mad at me for fuck knows why.  This is drama I don't need in my life, Lord. ...

Aunt Is Doing ... OK? (I, However, May Be A Prick)

I will confess: Once I heard that my uncle had died, I harkened back to the time about six weeks ago, when my aunt dropped by the house and told me not to talk to him because he hadn't been feeling well, and if I asked him how he was doing, he was not going to tell me the truth.

I regret not talking to him to this day, and it will haunt me forever, just like I regret not ever visiting my friend who was convalescing out in Edina for months and who died after having surgery.  In the aftermath of knowing he had passed, I wondered about the conversation we had.  She's a little daft, and I didn't quite understand why she told me not to speak with him.  In fact, I had wondered if she had been hiding the full extent of the deterioration of his health.  If, for example, he had been in the hospital for a couple weeks and didn't tell me or the rest of the family, I would be very, very upset.  I had asked that if things went south with my father to let me know ASAP.  And a part of me, to be honest, didn't think she did.

But then I scrolled through my Google Voice messages Wednesday night and saw that my aunt did in fact leave a VM for me.  There were two reasons I didn't get it till now: 1) she called me overnight Saturday/Sunday, which was when I got back from the Big Ten Women's Basketball Tournament around 9, crawled into bed around 9:30, woke up around 5 or so, then immediately drove back to work at Target Center; and 2) how I set up Google Voice means I don't get voicemail through the phone.  Any messages left for me I need to go through my Mail app to get, and that's if I remember to hear them, and seeing as how I come across half a dozen messages from time to time, I don't remember a whole lot.

Anyway, she said that she needed to get ahold of Father ASAP because my uncle ... well, you know.  Eventually Father heard about his little brother -- not by me, of course -- so she was able to reach him like she wanted to.  But beyond not seeing him before he died, I really, really hate myself for not answering my aunt's VM when I should have.  And now that what's done is done, I didn't think reaching out to her now is the best idea.

Eventually, however, I had to -- not only to let my aunt know I did get her voicemail, and not only because contacting her is the right thing to do, but because my sister asked me to.  The shoe is now on the other foot; instead of me being mad at her, she now had every right to be mad at me.  I really didn't want to get yelled at, but it isn't grown-up of me to complete avoid her upon one of the worst moments in her life.

I really should visit her at their house.  I think a call would be in order.  But I had to buy pizza and get home last/Thursday night in time for dinner with Father.  I need to take some time talking with my aunt, and I couldn't do it if I was racing home.  But, I split the difference and texted her while I was at Target Center in the afternoon.  I didn't hear from her.  I thought it was either she was still in mourning and/or she was still pissed at me.  However, after I got home, I got a text from her saying she was fine.  And I noticed that she was liberally using the exclamation point.  Maybe it's nothing, but from the tone of her messages back to me, she didn't quite sound like she was depressed over losing her husband of over 40 years on Sunday.

I said I wanted to talk to her.  She gave a time of tomorrow at 2.  That doesn't work, for I am back at Target Center for the Big Ten Men's Basketball Tournament this weekend, and then I work in The Fourth Department all next week, and then Mother comes home Thursday night and I have to pick her up, and then there's that huge alumni thing Saturday afternoon ... and yet I said I will try for next week.  And that seems to be a "promise" I will have to push back to the following week.

You know, the more I write up how I'm dealing with my uncle's death, the more disappointed in myself I become.

Shrink's On Something Again

Arranged to speak with my psychotherapist on Friday after work.  Actually texted him about it; didn't arrange it through his secretary.  Texted him at the time we were supposed to talk.  And he didn't call me.  Again.

Later that evening he both texted and called me.  This time around he said that the alarm was going off at his place.  He said -- and I couldn't quite hear him, either because the line was bad or he was mumbling, or both -- that the police came out to either his place or the place next door, and he was so preoccupied all day that he forgot that we were supposed to talk.  Or something.  Honestly, this is new from him.  Do I believe it?  I don't know if I care about how different his excuses are anymore.  This is yet another missed appointment from him, and this time I spoke to him directly that we would talk on Friday.  Seriously, what the hell gives?

He has gotten increasingly strange, and this time has ratcheted that up a bit.  In the past he has left strange, almost indecipherable texts for me that he says is a result of a buggy phone.  Around Friday night, when he called me, he sent me about a dozen (maybe more) voice texts.  I didn't ask for those.  In fact, I have never gotten a voice text from anyone through text.  (I've gotten some from a distant relative on WhatsApp, and she is also strange.)  He doesn't talk when he says we are going to talk, and he makes up for it by blasting me with a series of weird texts?

I ... I don't know about him anymore.

Had another long, bad day in The Fourth Department.  Thing is, it was one of those uncommon days where I thought everything was under control, to the point where there were times in the early afternoon I had nothing to do ... but then there was a shit ton of stuff in the afternoon, and the answers to the stuff I needed to get back were themselves a little complicated, so I had to e-mail back explaining what I needed exactly ... yadda-yadda-yadda, it's almost 6:30.

There was one back-and-forth where I think the other person just got sick of me.  There were two forms for which I asked for information together, but she gave me different answers for both.  I had to ask her to re-check one of them, which was a very long account number, and she seemed to reply with the account for the other form, which did check out.  I had to e-mail back saying I was sorry for being unclear, but this is the form I need an account for.  And she just replied, "I understood."  But did you, though?  I need to cover my ass and make sure it's very, very clear what information is being retrieved for which form.  I need the person I'm e-mailing to basically spell it out, all of it.  So that, in so many words, is what I was asking her when I replied again.  And she didn't answer by the time I left.

Maybe she had to go.  Or maybe she got tired of me and is going to talk to someone else in the company and ask that person to talk to me, which I think is a little bitch move.  Man, I sometimes hate this job. ...

Weird Communication And No Communication

I don't want to talk anymore about doing overtime after work, even though a bunch of fucking bullshit came in in the afternoon that forced me to stay ten hours, and I know that'll really piss off my boss, but I can't blog post about that again because unless my boss does or says something, nothing's really happening and so I am just boring you, but still, I need to vent at how all this is stressing me out. ...

Anyway, I want to talk about two other things.  It's been months since I've spoken to my shrink, even though I have tried to set up times and he has blown through them.  In the meantime he has texted me these strange and nonsensical texts that taken individually seems like an innocent case of pocket dialing but taken together, frankly, is starting to sound like a man stricken with Alzheimer's Disease.  Last week I had a few days off and I texted him to see if we can talk.  He didn't get back to me till earlier this week, and he texted me these bloops and bleeps.  They weren't even words, man.  I'm starting to get really worried -- not only that he is not well, but that I don't know if I want to talk to him anymore.  In the meantime I have tried to loop his assistant back in; maybe she can make sense of all this.

Also, just because, I texted my sister-in-law to say hi.  She hasn't texted back.  She has never given me the silent treatment.  That makes me think her marriage to my brother is on the rocks.  Fucking greeeeeat.

Seeing A Gig I Can't Work After Not Seeing A Gig I Can Work

Now I'm worried.  The gig with the Golden Gophers I received last Wednesday afternoon to which I did not answer until last Thursday night/early Friday morning has not been confirmed.  I e-mailed them on Monday to make sure they got it and didn't overlook it because their inbox is also flooded with political donation messages.  But I haven't heard back.

Meanwhile, after I got up from my evening rest (which went so long that I probably won't fall asleep until 4 o'clock comes, at which point I plan on leaving to go to the Black Hart to see the final Group Stage Matches of the Women's World Cup) I scrolled through my e-mail on my phone.  I've been looking for a confirmation e-mail for the Gophers gig at work on a regular basis, and no, it's not a healthy thing.  And last/Wednesday night, I still haven't received it.

Instead, I got an offer to work Twins Game.  Unfortunately, and for only the third time ever, I rejected the offer to work.  Maybe even more importantly, I think this is the first time I've ever rejected a gig not because I was going to be out of the continental United States to celebrate my sister.  I had to say no because this is on a Saturday, and not just any Saturday, but the first Game of my alma mater's football season, which means I am usually busy planning and watching Games with my friends.  You see, we need to watch this Game at a restaurant in St. Paul we went to last season, but (in my opinion) is still too new for us to just walk in and act as if we run the place.  We have way more familiarity with our main bar, and I am trying to convince myself that is the difference between working last Year's Twins Game and not working this Year's.

Last Year I worked for the production mid-September.  It was a Saturday, and my football team was playing its Second Game.  We did not have a viewing party for the first Game because we could not find a bar that had the network that broadcast that Game.  That meant that the Second Game was the first Game-watching event of the season, and I had some misgivings about not hosting a Game-watching party for the second Week in a row because that would establish of pattern of not hosting, and that would hurt attendance, plus I would have been missing hosting the first two Games of a season, and I think that looks bad.  However, our main bar is one we've been to for many, many years now, to the point where I don't think I have to show up for the people who run the place to know other people are coming.  I think I went to our main bar earlier that week to say that there is a Game on at this time of night, and even though I won't be there, many others whose faces they may recognize will.  That was enough for me to convince myself that my friends could take care of getting the Game on their TVs by themselves and without my help.  And that self-sufficiency allowed me to work the Twins that night.

That isn't the case here.  I still have to go to St. Paul and eat there (for the first time since last season) to make sure they still carry the channel.  With all that uncertainty and unfamiliarity, I think I need to be there to host.  I would much prefer to work the Twins Game, no doubt.  I just can't do it this time, however, and I hope I have built up enough goodwill with the network over the years that they will come back to me if there is another Twins Game they are broadcasting in future seasons.

There are three things, by the way, that I have to point out about this offer I just said no to.  First of all, like last Year's gig, they are coming here late in the season.  Target Field is spectacular during the summer, and maybe even around Memorial Day.  Nothing is precluding them from showing a Game then, when I'm not worried about college football season and can totally work for them.  Besides, I'm scared that, like last season, the Twins will collapse and play like the non-competitive schmucks they were when they lost that Twins Game I did work last season.  Second of all, a college football season usually starts Labor Weekend.  This gig I declined is the Saturday before Labor Weekend.  It just so happens that my alma mater's team is playing what they call a "Week 0" Game this Year.  If this were any other season, I could probably work it, goddammit.

And finally, I have to point out this irony: I responded to this e-mail about 4 1/2 hours after the requestor sent it.  I shouldn't berate myself so much because if you're not friends with yourself, you're in a world of trouble, but it took me a day and a half to respond to the Gopher job, which I can work and which I in all honesty lucked into finding because I was afraid I missed this offer I thought was coming my way.  However, this silent treatment makes me think I was too late in answering.  The guy asking me to work the Twins Game urged me to reply quickly because he was about to ask other people.  The person offering me the Golden Gopher job didn't say that, but by not responding to my reply either last week or Monday, I'm afraid that he has already asked other people, and someone said yes.

I think I will e-mail them again overnight.  I don't want to sound desperate, but I kind of am.  And hey, I need to know if I need to clear my schedule at work to work the Gophers that week.  This production has always been good and getting back to me on offers I have said yes to.  Why they haven't on this very important (to me) gig (full circle wording that ties this essay together) worries the hell out of me.

Party Fouls

Will be going to this big event soon.  I won't say that it's a disaster, but already one big thing has come up that I don't like and have to admit some fault in: A couple people e-mailed me over the past couple days if they can come.  They do this even though 1) I have given them a few e-mail warnings over the past couple months and 2) registration is already over.  These two people are lovely, but I don't know how much attention they've been paying to the lead-up to this event.  From what they are telling me, they don't know, for example, that there is now an admission fee for this party.

With that being said, these two people reached out immediately after I e-mailed my group, which was Wednesday.  I finally checked e-mails just now.  If I were more diligent, I would have been able to answer their questions immediately after they asked me.  I regret not doing my part.  In an effort to prevent that, I am trying to see if I have set up notifications for that particular e-mail account.  What would also help is if my alma mater specifically told registrants the deadline to sign up.

So I stonewalled one person who wanted to come.  Another person still wants to come, the day of.  I don't know what to do with her, so I gave her the e-mail of someone in the alma mater.  It would be kind of a disaster if the hosts (who really are in charge) are overwhelmed with people they didn't expect to be there.  I don't know what to do if you decide to come to this party the day of the party.  I'm not in charge of it anymore.  I volunteered to help, and this is what happens.  I have to learn my lesson next time.  But as much as I want to help, if I can't decide things on my own -- and I no longer have any decision-making power with these events -- what I am volunteering for?

Add all that that there will be scant few people I know there (probably a result of the attendance fee); that I'm going to a brand-new address I've never been to before; that I'm going to a city I've never been to before; that the party is going to be three hours which seems very long; and I will sheepishly ask people I have not met if I can take pictures of them for our social media ... and, well, I am not going into this with the best frame of mind.  I am expecting the worst, not going to lie.

Psychologist, We Have To Talk

I am talking with my shrink after work today/Thursday.  It's been over a month since I last spoke to him, so before my trip to Hawai'i, so I have plenty to talk to him about, most notably the time My Fucking Mother humiliated me in front of the whole family.

However, I have to discuss something with him first.  I blog posted about a nonsensical, strange-as-hell text I got from him over the summer.  Well, earlier this month I got another one.  There wasn't a single word I could make out on this text.  I think it had two closed parentheses and a dollar sign.  I have no clue what that is or if he meant to send that to me.  But that is now two weird texts, and so he can no longer say it's an accident.

I'm really not getting what my therapist is doing.  I have to raise this issue with him, and today.

OK, I'm Over And Done With Her

******a, the stripper who now massages me ... well, if I do ever invite her to rub me down again, it'll be a while, let's just say.

It continues to be a pain in the ass to reach her.  I have to call her and leave her a voicemail because she's paranoid about, like, people knowing where she's at and what she's doing, but she gets to text me.  Usually her texts are, "Call me."  And I do, and I get her voicemail again.  Whenever she finally gets around to calling me, I usually let it go to VM because she doesn't show up as her, even though I call her phone all the time, but "No Caller ID."  Would you pick up if you saw that?  But I do, because I have learned that it might be her.

We finally connect last/Friday evening while I'm sitting at another secret bar after she texts me this cryptic message: "So are you ready for me come over and do what you said?."  I see "No Caller ID" is calling.  She says something I couldn't understand because of the noise in the bar.  I go, "So, are you able to come tonight at 9:3-" and immediately she said, "I said don't say the time I'm coming over!  Someone might hear you!"  And I'm shaking my head.  This bitch is paranoid, and I don't think she's coming back.  But it's too late for me to back out because we committed to this time.  Plus, I'm hoping she brushes up against my dick again.

Everybody!  She was supposed to come over at 9:30!  But she got here at 10:15.  First thing she does after she bursts in is complain about getting lost on the way here.  Again.  And then I let her smoke weed inside the house, a very first, because I'm hoping that her calming down will lead to a better massage and, yes, maybe some pee-pee touching.

The massage was fine.  Not like a legitimate one, where a trained professional really is able to unwind knots and get the toxins out of my fascia.  But it was OK enough because she stripped down to her tank top and granny underwear.  The underwear had polka dots.  Inbetween hits from her pipe, she was complaining that she couldn't lean on something sturdy to really did into my muscles.  Near the end, when I asked her to run her fingers around my groin (because she doesn't do happy endings), she asked to work my arms.  ******a has never done my arms before, and they can be sore because I sit in front of a computer all day.  But my arms aren't my legs, or my ass, or my groin, or my dick.  (sigh) she really didn't want to please me last night.

Worse yet, she accused me of ... something while she was cleaning up after we got done.  That might be why she scooted out really quickly.  Not even a hug?  And then she was hovering just outside her car, which she parked at the end of the driveway with the front toward the street, for a couple minutes.  I don't think she dropped her keys.  I think she just stopped and spaced out.

Like I said, the massage was alright.  Coconut oil on the skin feels good during a dry winter.  But everything else -- the whining, the out-of-nowhere allegations, the fear of a cameraphone being pointed at her, the inability to be present and just, you know, calm for the massage?  Add all that to her paranoia and refusal to just be frickin' contacted easily, and you know what?  ******a isn't worth it anymore.  I'm over and done with this.  And her.

Addendum To: My New Year's Resolution: To Not Be A Pushover

So ***e* has tripped across the border and is planning to cum over to the house and jerk me off tonight.  It was supposed to be last night, but she said her babysitter couldn't come in from Denver in time.  She flies in her babysitters?

Anyway, I hope she sticks to this.  And I hope she also keeps her promise that she will pay me back for all the money I lent her so she could buy school supplies for her children.  I have repeated more than once that I have no money.  I hope she doesn't slyly ask after we're cleaning up that, like, the person who drove her to my house needs gas money or some bullshit.

And in case ***e* does fall through, I have plans on calling ******a and seeing if she could cum over to rub me down.  She texted me out of the blue this afternoon, I was able to call her back, and she told me she was ready when I was.  I was ready Tuesday, yet we communicated back-and-forth that night when I thought that was totally unnecessary.  Whatever; I plan on calling her if ***e* can't cum.  I need some hot woman to see me naked tonight.

My Neck

Since ... Saturday (I think) the usual knot on the left side of my neck has been excruciating.  I don't know if I tensed that muscle up while sleeping, whether it got aggravated from all the plowing and shoveling of snow I did last week, my body is just breaking down or what have you, this goddamn pain has been acute and never-ending ... like "I want to die" bad.  I've had to cut down on the NyQuil so I could pop some pain pills (don't want to take too much medication -- I believe in better living through chemistry, but always in moderation), and right now, it still doesn't seem to work.

Over the past day or so the air has stagnated, and so the quality of the air has worsened.  Maybe that's the reason why my neck feels all oogy, and why I feel so oogy, too.  If that's the case, the wind that will finally start blowing in around noon today could -- could -- clear up what's wrong with my neck.  And if it doesn't?  Well, that means there's something else, wrong and really bad going on with my neck.

******a was supposed to cum over and massage me, by the way.  But we had been playing phone tag for some fucking reason, and I think that's why she eventually decided not to come over.  It's so weird to just get a straight word from her sometimes.  I think she might be calling me from a phone number different from the one I have from her because yesterday/Monday I had three calls from "No Caller ID," and I think that was her.  She can't call me from her own phone?  I think she's decompensating again.

You Need To Say Something, Dumbass Low Talker!!

OK, so I was kind of out of it Saturday/Christmas Eve as we decided to head to a waterfall on the other side of the Big Island.  After getting there, we all kind of agreed that we would go to the bathroom before beginning our hike.

When I got to the men's room, there was a guy standing there -- on the other side of the bathroom door, waiting for the guy in the only urinal there to pee.  Of course he didn't want to leer behind the guy while he was whizzing, but he was giving him more than, you know, six feet of distance.  He actually looked like he was waiting for his friend to finish peeing.  So I said to him, "Are you in line?" to which he said ... something.  Honestly, I have no idea what he said.  He grunted or some shit.  And I was still fighting off the flu; my head was in a fog and all my joints were aching, and so I guess I just ignored whatever he snorted out of his mouth and waited until the guy got done at the urinal.  I stepped out and this little bitch screamed out, "Hey!  I was waiting here!"  And I was all, "Sorry!  I didn't understand you!"  Thankfully, the guy using the stall got done right after the guy at the urinal, so it wasn't as if I was waiting there for weeks or anything like that.

But I made sure I peed really, really slowly.  And when I got out of that stall, and my whole entire time at the waterfall, I was looking around, sometimes putting my head down, and frequently balling up my fist in case I saw that motherfucker walking down to the waterfall with us.  It would just be my luck that that asshole would be arriving at the same time we do, so I had to defend myself in case he didn't want to let this go.  Thankfully I didn't see that prick, but if I did, I was ready to throw down, flu bug or no.

Look, I think he was a goddamn low talker.  If I was cutting in line, speak up!  And get a little closer to the urinal, would you, pretty please?  I don't want you looking over his shoulder, but close that fucking gap so it looks like you need to pee too.  Jesus fucking Christ. ...