Welp, playtime is over.  Mother told me last/Monday night they're coming home in a few weeks.

It was going to happen.  But it's never enough time.

And I'm stuck with all my stuff in the house.  I'm glad I have the time I think I have, but there's so much to go through throw back in storage ... will it be enough?

(sigh, depression)

I Have Three Streaming Services And Barely Use Them

I've signed up for two on a free basis, Sling and Peacock (or, as I like to call it, "The Cock").  I have Apple TV because I'm a MNUFC season ticketholder; you get a subscription as part of your season ticket.

I have barely used any of them, and I barely have seen any shows on any of them.  A few months ago I finished the pilot for The Morning Show, and I started on the pilot maybe three years before then.  I think that is the only show I've seen in any of the three streamers.  I have seen sports on Apple TV (Major League Soccer Matches mostly) and Sling (but it's really obscure leagues, like Liga MX Femenil).  But I just don't have time.  Thankfully I don't pay any money to use any of the three.

Just because, I logged into Sling and Peacock just now.  It's been weeks since I've done so.  Peacock shows you free international soccer, like Serie A.  Nothing like that on Sling; the closest to that are re-reruns of women's cricket.  And since there's the NFL on free TV, I turned off those streamers to watch my TV set.  No, actually I think I'll go take a nap with football on because I'm headed out later this afternoon.

I Tried To Wash My Ballcap Last Night ...

... and it didn't go well.  It was time I tried again, so I looked it up on YouTube and online, and I followed the instructions, which told me that I needed to get a stain spray and, because I needed to make sure it would retain its shape while drying, I decided to also buy one of those ballcap holders that's supposed to hold its shape when you put it in the washing machine.  I had one of those holders once when I was in college and it didn't work; somehow, the clasps holding the top and bottom parts together pulled open, so my cap got washed alongside all the other loose pieces of clothing and it got frayed on parts of it.

Anyway, because trying to wash it using the machine didn't work all those years ago, I didn't wash them at all.  But all my hats were getting really dirty, so that's why I tried again -- and, ironically enough, I started with the ballcap that got torn up.  If I don't know what I'm doing, might as well use my first try on my most beat-up hat.  So I washed it first, then put that stain remover all over it, brushed it into all the dirty and sweaty spots (oh, I also bought a some laundry brush to do that), then soaked it in water filled with detergent and dish soap for about 20 minutes.  I then rinsed it, put it into the holder, and it's drying, slowly, in the laundry room right now.

And to be honest, I don't see a change.  I didn't see my ballcap brighten or look cleaner after I grabbed it from the bucket, the water in the bucket in which I submerged my hat didn't look dirtier, and just now, before I left for chores, it still looks as dirty as ever.  Great.  Maybe I needed to dunk it for, like, a day, or maybe that cap has seen better days.  I just thought that what I did was going to do something and, uh, it looks like it didn't.  Might as well try again, since I bought three things for this task, but seeing as how this first try didn't do anything, it's demoralizing.

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)

I Thought There Were Clever Elves Living In My Front Yard

I'm at home because the water sprinkler person is coming to winterize/close down the sprinkler system for the season.  I got dizzy and therefore went to bed early (at least for me), around 12:30, and I woke up around 5:30 because, in all the drama surrounding the adjuster coming to the house yesterday afternoon (I'll blog post about that, but I thought I was going to blog post about it now), I forgot to turn off my alarm.  Luckily I fell back asleep around, oh, 7 and woke up around 10.

Groggy of course, I go to the bathroom and, of course, I look out to the front yard.  There's a tree.  It's a young one, but it looks about a dozen feet tall.  It's not planted where the previous tree was taken out earlier this year.  But it's there, and I didn't ask for it, and sure as heck no one told me about it.

No one told me about a utility company marking down water and gas lines in my front yard with paint, either, but I saw those over the past couple weeks or so, too.  I didn't have time to check with the city about the painted markings, but now, with a day off and some darn tree in my front yard, it was time.  So I called the city and, yes, they knew about it.  It was their plan to plant the tree, and since it involves digging a hole, the utility had to come out and mark where the gas and water lines are.

Ah, so I see.  One thing that gives me pause, though, and I guess I should have been more cognizant about this when people stepped onto the front yard to remove the old, diseased ash tree.  The person I spoke to at the city said that they can plant (and, theoretically, remove) trees because it's a "boulevard" tree ... and the front yard is city property.  Wait -- my front yard is city property?  So why in the hell am I mowing it half a dozen times a year?  If it's not my property (and I don't know how it could be my property if it's city property), why in the hell isn't the city coming over to mow the lawn?

Feh.  I'm trying to make lemonade out of lemons; I asked what kind of tree it is.  I had thought that if we wanted a replacement tree for the front yard, we had to buy it and plant it.  So I had gone down a rabbit hole of trees that are good to plant in our climate, like this page.  I had dreams about what trees I wanted in the front yard, but the city obviously has other plans.  The city's supposed to get back to me.  Hopefully the tree up front is a hardy, Upper Midwest tree and not one that will get emerald ash borer.  

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.

The Mailing Tabs Saga Is Over (With A Twist)!!!

Well, at least Federal Express did its job.  Exceeded it, actually; while at work yesterday/Tuesday, Mother texted me saying she got the second tab from me.  Thank goodness.  Now maybe she can't get off my back.

But here's the thing.  She got the FedEx package at 11:06 a.m. their time -- a hell of a lot sooner than the 5 p.m. deadline I was given when I sent the second tab Monday evening, so kudos to them.  But at 11:57 a.m. their time, the first tab I sent through the United States Postal Service arrived.  It was almost four goddamn days late, but it arrived.  So I wanted to send one tab, for a whole weekend and then some Mother fucking freaked out because she had zero tabs, and now she has two/both.  Fuck us.

In the morning I will make one final journey out to the downtown post office, this time to get the refund I deserve.  They guaranteed the first tab would get there Friday evening, and it didn't, and the guy told me Monday morning I'm entitled to a refund, so that's what I'm going to do.  Damn, if this Republican government wants to break the government in order for the people to believe the government can't do anything so that services get privatized so that Republicans can get even more money ... well, they're doing too fucking good of a goddamn job.

When Will This Mailing Tabs Saga End??

So before work yesterday/Monday morning I go back downtown to the post office, which was where I mailed my parents' tabs.  It was supposed to be in their hands Friday evening, but according to the website, the last known location was St. Paul Thursday evening.  I was hoping that the postal worker could bring up more information beyond what I found punching in the tracking number onto a website, but it doesn't look like he did/could.

It was the right thing to do, going to the post office, but I would be lying if I wasn't badgered into doing it by Mother.  When she recommended going in the morning, she wanted me to call her.  It was around 5:30 a.m. her time, but, well, my parents are fucking crazy like that, waking up in the morning.  She was her usual panicky, overbearing self when I broke the news that there was no new news.  So she wanted to go to Plan B.  We get two tabs when we renew, but in Nevada you need only one license plate, so you need only tab.  Mother told me to send her only one tab for situations just like this, where the other gets lost in the mail.  That happened, so now she wanted me to send the other one -- but to Federal Express, not USPS.  Logical.

She wanted me to do this as soon as possible.  I thought to hell with that, and I told her I would go as soon as my workday was done, and no sooner.  I even turned off my phone from time to time at work because I didn't want her bothering me.  To be fair, she didn't call, and it just so happened that I got out of work at a decent time, so I went home to grab the tab, then go to FedEx.  (This is where I confess that I lied to Mother; when she asked me if I brought the tab I have to the Post Office, like she said she told me to do [and she did], I said yes when I knew I left it at home.  So glad I had time to go home, then go to Federal Express.)  Unfortunately, the cutoff time for packages to be sent overnight was five minutes after I got there.  However, I was directed to another FedEx place south of this location which has a later cutoff.  I went home, changed vehicles (I drove the minivan to the first Federal Express), kept my tab on me, and drove.

I made the mistake of calling Mother, which she wanted me to do when I was calling her from the first FedEx), when I was at this second FedEx.  She was telling me to do things with the tab that were obvious.  She was talking my ear off because she's anxious/upset she hasn't gotten the first tab I sent her.  So when I got to the front of the line, I hung up on her.

So for about $40 Federal Express says they will send it overnight, and it'll be in my parents' hands by 5 p.m. this/Tuesday evening.  Hope so.  Anyway, this fuck-up once again brings out the bitchiest in My Fucking Mother, which I abhor.  Saying that, none of this would have happened if the USPS just overnighted my package to my parents like they promised they would, and like I paid for.

I've lodged complaints.  Someone apparently from a post office in Las Vegas left me a message in response.  I'll hopefully hear from this person tomorrow, because I want this goddamn saga to end now.

The Autumn Equinox Is Killing Me

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

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

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

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

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

And That Busy Week Has Gotten A Bit More Complicated

How?  First of all, I didn't think I would be so swamped with goddamn work in The Fourth Department like I did.  Don't know why or how -- and I never do -- but there was work waiting for me in the morning, then more came during the morning, and a little more in the afternoon, and I had to leave for Pizza Hut and Monday Night Football after ten hours.  I had to give myself a limit because not only was I determined to watch the football Game (which I was late for; I thought I put in the Pizza Hut order overnight, but apparently the order didn't go through, so I had to order it there and wait 15 minutes), but I was fucking pissed off at all the goddamn work that blindsided me that ten hours was my limit before I was going to go postal.  I did all the work I absolutely had to do.  But had I done all the work I usually do to wrap up my day, I might have been there another damn two hours.

So I know what I'll be working on once I get in this/Tuesday morning.  And this is why I always try to stay late to get any work done -- if I leave it till the morning, I might put myself behind the 8-ball if there is an avalanche of work that comes in the morning.  That could have a cascading effect whereby I would be leaving even more work.  I don't work tomorrow/Wednesday, so technically it won't be my problem, but it will be my co-worker's, and I can't speak for them, but I am usually pissed as hell if I had a shit ton of work that was left for me.  Saying that ... I am racking up the hours.  If this workload keeps up this week, I would be getting overtime pay ... but I'm not working tomorrow/Wednesday.  Which makes me think I should pull back my paid time off and work.  I have arranged to fuck ****e that afternoon, and I plan on seeing a movie after that, but I can reschedule those.  I don't know how big work is going to be, but I feel confident I'll be staying as late today/Tuesday as I did yesterday/Monday, so a little bit of OT for working all five days would be guaranteed, and I'm a slave to capitalism.

But then last/Tuesday night I got the word: My psychiatrist passed away.  His memorial service and funeral will be Friday afternoon.  Frankly, I don't know if a patient of a psychiatrist should attend his memorial and funeral.  It feels like an invasion of privacy, as if I'm crossing a boundary and infiltrating the sacred, vulnerable space of those closest to him.  Although I poured my heart out to him, I can't say we're friends, so I wonder if going is a bit exploitive.  On the other hand, this will be the last time I get to see him.  Also, his secretary was the one who texted me the news about his death and funeral arrangements, and I think that she wouldn't divulge the details if patients weren't invited.  Finally, it's relatively close to work, and I think I can take off half a day, and start my weekend early, to go to a funeral service, even though it looks like a total washout outside.

I really feel like this is important to go to.  But assuming I can attend the funeral service, that'll be, like, four hours of paid time off I will be giving up.  That's on top of the eight I'm using tomorrow/Wednesday.  That's a lot, and even though I need to make sure I use up enough by the end of the year to get below a threshold above which I would just be giving hours away, I don't want to use so much this year.  So if I work tomorrow/Wednesday instead, I would get myself closer to the 40-hour mark above which I will get time-and-a-half.  There's no chance to get OT pay if I take 1 1/2 days off, obviously.  So, maybe I should do it?  On the other hand, my therapist's death is a reminder that you have only so many days on this side of the dirt, so maybe I shouldn't sweat getting just below the maximum number of hours before the New Year and instead take off when I want and watch what I want and fuck who I want.

Nah.  I'll wait until I see how I feel at work today/Wednesday.  I am so wishy-washy.

Getting Up Early Is Good?

This take is shaped by how I didn't and don't have to report super early to my jobs this weekend, so even when I was waking up "late," I probably had enough sleep where I could roll out of my bed and immediately head out.  That's what I have done and that's what I like doing.  But lately I've been going to sleep earlier in the night.  Did that this and yesterday morning, which meant and means that I didn't/don't have to dash out of the house.

You know what?  I don't mind it.  I had things I had to do, though they're not pressing, and I had time to do it both mornings.  It was nice to shower and shave and water the plants and even do this thing for Mother when she texted this morning and asked me to call her so she can explain this thing she wanted me to do for her.  And I have the time to do them, unrushed.  This is a new feeling for me.  And it feels good.

Now, I always want to get to work first thing because I don't have as much energy as I will once I fully wake up.  I am worried that being up three hours before work will mean I will get tired once I get to work today.  But for now my stress is low, I know I shouldn't be late for work, and I will hope I have a good day.  My mind is relatively clear and relaxed.  This may go sideways on me, and I might sing a different tune tonight.  But right now, I'm good, and it might be because I got up when and how I got up.

Teeth Things

Yesterday/Tuesday I went to the Fair.  Great time to go, especially since 1) work so non-existent I left an hour early and 2) the forecasters says it is going to be as dry and cool as it will get the rest of the Fair.  (I thought about going today/Wednesday, but, even though the air temperature today/Wednesday will be a few degrees lower than yesterday/Tuesday, the dewpoint today/Wednesday is higher, so that will make it feel hotter today/Wednesday than yesterday/Tuesday.  And I enjoyed myself (more than five hours!!) to the point of exhaustion (that's why I am blog posting now) and getting a stomach ache eating all that I could.  Too bad I started yesterday/Tuesday biting my tongue so hard while eating oatmeal before work that I could feel it my entire time at the Fair.  Shit, man, I feel it now.  Sucks to bite your tongue.

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Just woke up.  Took my guard out.  It's been two days and already the pads that are supposed that keep my molars from touching and grinding each other are beat up and flattening.  But I also noticed that the right pad seems more worn out than the left.  That's not the case, not usually.  I use them to the point where I break through one of the pads; I replace it only when, like, almost half of the pad is torn through.  That's usually the left one, like I grind more on the left side of my mouth, for some reason.  But looking at the pads, it looks like I'm grinding more on the right.  Maybe something is changing?

The Triumphant Return Of VEF!!!

OK, so I was about to do a blog post where I fell asleep at a decent time again (if you count 11:30 as a decent time) and trying to figure out when and how to fit in dropping off the wood pallet at my unit, getting a massage, going to my favorite speakeasy, and having visits from two stripper girlfriends, all before the State Fair begins.  (Still haven't figured it out yet; I might blog post about it later this week.)

But the days has already started out great, because VEF is back!  It was gone for over a month, and my God, it's like a druggie being in withdrawal.  Around the same time I saw a bunch of other porn sites put up those "I am 18+" verification boxes before you'd get to the homepage, and I thought VEF getting suddenly taken down had something to do with that.  I don't know all the details as to why and how, but that was not the case here.  All I know is I was up at around 5:30 this morning, I needed to blog post, I thought I would take another shot at VEF, and voila! it's back!!

I hadn't realized how much I've relied on VEF.  As other things remain out of place, I am so happy that I have this back in my life!!!

Kinda Fucked Up Now

I woke up after I threw up a little in my mouth.  Ever have that happen to you?  Not fun.

That happened around 5:11.  And that happened after I woke up around 4:30, which happened after I shut off the lights to see if I would fall asleep around 12:30.  And I did that even though I juiced half a lime (25 mL -- yeah, waiting for the lime to warm up to room temperature seems to help a lot!) at 8 p.m.  That means I had till about 6 a.m. to use it all before it went bad.  I failed to do so; I am drinking a Suffering Bastard right now, which I made around 5:30, but I have 10 mL I still have to use.  And even though it's "spoiled," I will still use it, right after I finish my first cocktail at around 6:30.  Can't waste bad lime juice.

And yes, I am day drinking.  Well, looks like dawn drinking.  I admit that this is kind of fucked up -- drinking in the morning, sleeping at odd hours, waking up after intermittent sleep and, of course, throwing up in my mouth.  At least I'm not working or anything, right?

I should do something productive, like clean up or something, now.

Late going to Caffetto, and while I wanted to reconcile my monthly expense list, goddammit, I forgot my day planner at home.  Guess that makes up time for me to attend Porchfest, which just started, and so I'm kind of bummed I wasn't at a house when a bad actually started the day (Porchfest kicked off at 1, which is about four minutes after I typed this).

Going to a house party.  Don't know when I want to get there.  A part of me wants to get there at 2, but unlike Porchfest, there's no good reason for me to get there right at the start because strippers don't usually start working when the party begins.  Also, the one woman whom I wanted to be there, ****e, just texted me that she wouldn't be there.  I am going just to please the host, ******e, so I make sure I get her texts for parties in the future.  But will I get a dance?  Unless I run into someone I remember or take a chance on a woman, I don't think so.

Could move up my yardwork to after the party, but it rained just now.  Heavily at some points.  Was it supposed to rain?  Didn't catch the news last night.  The rain discourages me from mowing or trying to reconfigure the sprinkler heads till tomorrow.

My day so far.

I know it's been hotter, and I know it's been more humid.  But I swear, when I tried going to sleep in my car at work yesterday/Tuesday afternoon, I never felt more sweltering in my life.  I knew as soon as I closed my eyes that the sweat would form all over my body and that I would be drowning in it before long.  I didn't get a second of shut-eye.  So glad I conked off at around 9 Monday (I think) and woke up around 5:30 Tuesday morning.  And since I have the early shift today/Wednesday, I think my body is still good enough for only four hours of sleep ... but I still should publish this quick and go to bed!

Another Busy Week Ahead

There's an MNUFC soccer Match I desperately want to get out of (more on that tomorrow, if I remember), and I have reserved a ticket to see the latest Spider-Man on Thursday.  (About that: When faced with the deadline to purchase an advanced ticket for five bucks, I chose Thursday ... just because.  And either I didn't think about it at the time or I decided I couldn't do it, but I now realize that I should have reserved a seat for an IMAX showing.  They don't have an IMAX screening on Thursday.  They have one tonight/Monday night ... but it's at a time where I would have to stay pretty late at work to make it make sense for me to drive to the theater instead of home.  Wish there was an earlier time that would fit a time I think I will get out of work tonight/Monday night.)  That also opens up the chance for me to see Super Troopers 3 on Wednesday, when I get out of work early.

So that's three days where I'm doing something after work, and they come back-to-back-to-back.  At my advanced age, that's a lot.  I'm tired just thinking about it.  But as long as I can frolic free without my parents even vaguely being disapproving (let alone knowing), I'll do it!

Great that I got a good night's sleep.  And in a vacuum, I'm not against going to bed at 10:30 and waking up at 6.  But when the only thing you have to do is a party at 2, and the thing you want to do is fixing sprinkler heads and it might have rained overnight, you're not wanting to do anything, even if I have as much energy as I'll ever have.

Well, I do have to water the plants.  And wash some dishes, like I wanted to last night.  And, you know, if it rained overnight, I won't have to really fix the sprinklers, do I?

All of a sudden, whoo! I'm tired.  I'll ... think about doing something and then either do it or not do it.

I was afraid The Third Department was going to be hell since one of my co-workers was taking the rest of the week off, and it was.  Goddamn, I didn't leave last/Thursday night until 7:15 -- that's a 10:45 day.  I'm glad I got to the pizza place (in a gas station very close by me) before they closed.  But it might be just as bad today/Friday because there are a half-dozen tests coming in.  There were only supposed to be two yesterday/Thursday but that became six, goddammit.

Since I got home much later than I was hoping, all the things I thought I wanted to do I just didn't do -- not just because I got home so late, but also because I was so tired.  At least I have enough energy to blog post this complaint.

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

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

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

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