Hi,
What's new with you, fellow human? Hopefully, something good like your loving spouse won a lotto, your child whipped the holy bejesus out of the school bully, your offspring graduated from college and will begin supporting you for a change or maybe you got that recipe just right.
Well, I showed destiny who was in control of this swirling chaos that is currently my life. I shared with you that I had tasks that required me to be up and about by 5 AM in a previous entry. That didn't happen; I slept in till 7 AM. I thought 'OK, must have needed the additional rest'. Our bodies and minds are like that, you know. What I had planned for that day can be accomplished the following day. However, that night it rained and it was heavy enough that I had to close the truck windows. It got uncomfortably warm. I tried to come up with another location where I could sleep with the windows open but to no avail. Finally, around 1:30 AM I turned the truck on to utilize the ventilation system. I let the vehicle run for about 20 minutes which was enough to cool the interior down and I was able to sleep for about an hour before I had to repeat the cycle. Around 4 AM the rain stopped and I was able to open the windows for the coolness to enter the cab of the truck. I went back to sleep and was awakened by a light rain gently pelting my young supple face...at 8:30 AM! After the counter in my head incremented to 19515, I unfolded out of the vehicle to stretch. By the way, that counter incrementation is one of the first thoughts I have in the morning upon awakening. It's the number of days I've been alive. After I stretched for a few seconds, I turned around and a phone guy was looking at me from a couple of parking spaces away. Wearing nothing but shorts and a smile, I said good morning. He replied in kind and immediately altered his location. For two consecutive mornings, I've missed my window of availability for hygiene protocols. It's not as bad as one would think; after face washing and a toothbrush, things are decent. As Scarlett O'Hara would say 'Tomorrow is another day.' But...it doesn't matter if I have to go thru Satan himself, there will be no '3 peat'...if I may be so humble to request of destiny.
For those of you wondering why I didn't use the truck AC, I didn't due to fuel considerations. I haven't used the AC all summer.
I was talking with a benefactor recently and during the course of that conversation I became aware that I haven't shared my game plan with you in detail. I would hope that by now, with what I shared with you, you would have enough confidence in me to assume that I'm not exactly brimming with joy about the current set of circumstances that I'm navigating and that I am pursuing options to alter them. It's not my nature to just accept things as the way they are. Game plan as follows:
My primary task is the continuation and completion of the other writing project, with the goal of a finished product by summer of 08 and begin shopping for an agent. I work on that project on a daily basis, last week notwithstanding, by writing and/or structuring what I'm going to write. This task is the number one priority above all other considerations and will continue to be as long as I can metabolize oxygen. I did not create that project; it chose me. Sounds odd but that is how it unfolded and I now have that responsibility.
My secondary task is the continuation of this journal with 1-2 entries per week as per the defined scope of this particular project. Unless I embark on another project that requires much physicality for a short duration...and if it doesn't kill me.
All other tasks, endeavors or actions on my part will directly support the above two items. If there is a conflict, the primary task, within reasonable boundaries, will take priority.
Well, there you have my strategic orientation for the next 12-14 months. Now, for the tactical considerations concerning the supporting tasks in decreasing importance:
1) part-time work - 30 hrs weekly max or 2 weeks on then 2 weeks off, weekend work no problem; no work that leaves me exhausted at day's end; open to another location; no investment in work, t
that is to say that I'm not thinking about it during off-duty.
2) shelter - could live out of BT for awhile but renting a room would be ideal, maybe cheap studio in decent part of town; if unable to find palatable arrangements, BT will suffice until things change.
Now you are aware of the strategic and tactical boundaries of my goals. It is important to note that the above only relates to my linear endeavors; the non-linear portion of me has separate aspirations. And as with frogs, plans have a way of bumping into things. Adjustments to plan highly probable.
There is an above average probability that the secondary task will be concluded at some point after the transition to the next stage of my...existence. Barring an 'abrupt contract termination' and acceptance of the output of the primary task, both unknowns, the work of the primary task will consume my remaining time with additional installments; no less than 6 but no more than 9. All considerations are, of course, at the whim of the powers that be.
And I know what some of you are thinking; that if I win a lotto or rediscover love or something else that is equally monumental, everything I've just written will diminish in stature. Not so, Billy Bob. It doesn't matter if a unicorn showed up in the morning at the hot tub with an acclamation proclaiming me as Overlord of the Galaxy, the primary task will take priority in my thoughts and actions until fate decrees otherwise.
By the way, on the Overlord issue; I will be quite benevolent. I have very few whims and they can be satisfied simply. There will be free tailgating twice during the week as well as on weekends. No taxes, free health care and education, cable programs with substance, official dress code will be shorts and tank top (footwear optional), a deep tissue massage received by everyone everyday, all will die of old age, 20 hr work week with 6 months off during the year and free retirement, free ice cream, free...
David
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Homeless - 29
Aloha, furless bipeds,
Did you miss me? I've certainly missed you. Hope you had a pleasant Labor Day weekend.
I've been working as a temporary day laborer this past week and only the gods know how I made it thru and oh, how they must've chuckled. The days were 10 to 12 hours long, sweating profusely and as luck would have it, the usual Dallas summer returned in all it's hell spawned fury. I think the Oriental deodorant rock worked wonders considering that my co-workers did not faint when I was around them in the late afternoon. It's one thing to perform manual labor throughout the day but quite another to lounge about the pool drinking cold beer; if the only the latter paid a decent wage. At the end of the day you're feeling sweaty, grimy, gritty, oily and yucky with bits of various kinds of paint, wood, mortar and god knows what else all over you, bumps and scrapes from shrubbery and tools and, finally, just physically exhausted. I ended each day by the quiet pool for more reasons than one but principally to cool down and get the yucky stuff off. In case you're wondering, yes, my tan did get a bit deeper and I lost a couple of pounds. And I had to wear shoes and underwear for the entire time; was not used to that nor being on my feet all day long. The shorts and tank top would be wet by 9 AM and the salt lines in the clothes were very apparent at the end of the day. For some reason, sleep came readily when the darkness descended.
Each day started at 5 AM (which day doesn't?) with a bout in the hot tub followed by swimming several laps in the pool, cutting silently but powerfully through the still water not unlike a ravenous anaconda sinuously parting the river waters under an Amazonian full moon with the light dimly reflecting off a lean muscular frame searching for prey, it's purpose permeating the atmosphere with an eerie undertone of lethality. Orrrrr, another interpretation could be that of a drunk, crippled, overweight seal desperately executing Escape Maneuver Plan Alpha to avoid a swiftly pursing orca...to no avail. Anyway, those laps and the stretching out routine helped the limbering up process. Oddly enough, I wasn't sore from the work like I am sometimes from a workout. The legs did have a tendency to stiffen up during the commute home and there were a couple of times in the middle of the night when I was awakened by cramps. No, silly, the other kind of cramps; the ones that cowardly and viciously attack the backs of the upper part of the legs; the ones that make you scream out for mercy to gods that know you not. Myself, I immediately launch into a breathing meditation that Yoda taught me (patent pending) to relax the distressed tissues...and to cease my childlike whimpering and tears.
I was alerted to this opportunity by a benefactor's sister. He told me about it and I ended up working with her and her husband. The work crew consisted of them, me and the lead who was an older woman. They would pick me up in the parking lot of a nearby home improvement store at 6:30 AM for the drive to Fort Worth. The husband always brought homemade breakfast burritos and they were darn good. Looking back, those breakfasts were probably crucial to my endurance. Every day around 1 PM or later, the lead would go out and get lunch for us that consisted of fast food. Supper was usually a large Dr. Pepper with plenty of ice. I know, not exactly the healthiest intake on the planet but I'll get some more fruits and veggies for lunch and supper this week. The husband and I did the most physically demanding work while his wife did things such as mixing mortar, painting, etc. She is more of an interior designer from what I gathered. The lead did...well, she did spend a lot of time sitting in the air conditioned van, talking on the cell phone, doing errands and changing my tasks from one moment to the next which is not exactly adhering to contemporary project management philosophy. Oh, she did get lunch for us from fast food places that she picked up the tab for but it was light lunches which sat well with me. I did not want to feel full and working in that kind of heat. As for her physical contributions, I guess we could cut her some slack; after all, she is 58 years old and not in the best of shape. Her supervisory skills desperately need some polishing though...and maybe a project planning refresher course wouldn't hurt.
Now for a couple of side notes. First, when working in this kind of heat performing manual labor and drinking a considerable amount of ice water, urination during the course of the day is non-existent due to, I think, the fact that you are sweating like you are sitting in a wet sauna in the spa of hell with a bunch of hungry fire breathing dragons that are wondering how you would taste. Secondly, one would think that with the amount of walking and working out with weights that I do that I would be well prepared to endure the physical stress. Negatory, Pigpen. It probably helped but the physical exertions are of a different order. So all of you office types that work out regularly, sipping you latte and looking out of an air conditioned office window watching workers performing their tasks, thinking that that is easy, brainless work that you could walk out there and do, rein in your inflated self-importance and re-evaluate the basis of your erroneous self-perception and give those workers their due. A couple of hours into that first day, I was wondering if I would make it without throwing in the towel. Reviewing the office mates that I knew over the past decade, there are only a handful that I would give even odds to last, regardless of their age category. The couple that I was working with were pegged out at the end of the day also and they were not new to the game.
For enduring the sweat and toil, you're probably wondering what the paycheck reflected. It was for the small fortune of $500 of which taxes and such were not deducted of which I'm grateful; Uncle Sam can wait a bit longer. I used to make that amount in a day in my previous life. For those of you keeping score, that $500 is the same dollar figure I started out with in this new life around the first of May; that lasted approximately 10 weeks. For those of you really keeping score, you'll notice that the numbers don't add up. Benefactor assistance certainly extended resource allocation and expenditures but there are a couple of other elements that have not been factored into your equations and at this time, for some reason that I'm unable to formulate, I'm unwilling to share the characteristics of those elements that destiny blessed me with. I will do so in a future journal entry but I assure you it is nothing illegal or distasteful such as participating in a gay biker snuff film that involved Amazonian pygmies and farm animals adorned in 18th century French livery. It's not that I have anything against that type of scenario, it's just not for me. But if you find yourself in my situation, those elements would be beneficial to know and their possible yield could help.
The daily activity prevented me from thinking about this writing project as well as the other one due to the fact that concentration to the task at hand was vital if you wanted to avoid hitting a useful appendage with a hammer or to maintain your balance on a ladder (yes, height fear have I do) or avoiding a blow to the head by an airborne sign that you just popped loose with a crowbar. And there were a couple of time in those instances where my catlike reflexes served me well though there are some who would say that a blow to my head could improve my mental stability. Mental discipline also helped in staying inside the boundaries while painting which attests to the fact that elementary school skills are transferable to other disciplines...or in preparation for them. Sure wish they taught 'international jewel thief' subjects back then. During the 15-20 minutes lunch break, I found myself missing the weekly workouts, going to the library and working on the writing projects. The daily activity was also the source of psychological/emotional anguish; namely, it dirtied my nails! I cleaned them while rehabbing at the quiet pool each day. This past Saturday morning I broke out one of the jealously hoarded emery boards and gave all nails an impeccable cleaning and polishing. I felt much, much better. By the polishing, I don't mean with a brush and using a bottle of that paint stuff that has an addictive aroma. I use an emery board like thingy that you can get at a grocery store that is kind of rubbery. On one half of the board labeled Step One, you rub the nail with it and proceed to Step 2 and rub the nail with it and for the final step, you use the other side of the implement and, yep, you guessed it, rub the nail with it to produce a halfway decent shine.
I know what you're thinking - 'Oh my God!. That guy has a fortune! What's he going to do with it?' Well, first of all, I ate a decent meal late Saturday evening at a non-fast food place that helped in more ways than one. I topped off the tank in Black Thunder. Succumbing to a personal weakness, I bought some cigarettes and experienced something akin to a religious transformation multiple times. I bought a six-pack of beer Sunday and lounged by the quiet pool with nary another soul throughout the entire day. Did I mention that it was cheap beer? I absolutely must write the brewery and inquire about the type and quality of ingredients utilized during the fermentation process and length of time necessary for a horse to produce such heavenly output. By the balls of Saint Mary! What a Truck! I'm sitting at the small strip mall writing this under one of the lot lights that has a tree by it. I'm about 40 meters from a significant thoroughfare in the Far North Dallas area facing north and am about 70 meters from the traffic light. A truck just stopped at the light that rivals those trucks that you see on TV that jump over small buildings in a single bound. Is it legal to drive those on the street ? For that matter, why drive it on the street at all ? What it can't jump, it can drive thru. That is the largest truck I've ever seen on a street. Oh, yeah, sorry, what were we talking about? The horse...no, wait...resource expenditures. The renewal of insurance on Black Thunder is due in October, I think, to the tune of $107 for 6 more months. It wouldn't be a bad idea to buy some more minutes for the cell phone. I need to get some thongs...ehhh, flip flops...you know, open toed footwear. We still have some warm days in these parts and you know how I feel about shoes. The past several Thanksgivings, I was walking around barefoot wearing shorts and a tank top with the apartment door and windows open. I also need some new sneakers. The three pair I had have not fared well since the first of May. The first pair I had for some time and kept care of them. They were 'kicking about' footwear for working out, walking in the woods, wearing to the office or out to bars. Don't be concerned; I used cedar shoe horns in them. I left them in an environment where there was a dog and we know how dogs are. Anyway, they are no longer available. The second pair came to a bad end; that will be a journal entry unto itself. My current pair aren't really sneakers but Rockports that I used primarily for office footwear. I had to use them this past week and paint found it's way to them several times. I don't think that they were intended for manual labor environments. Plus, I think my feet have increased in width. So I need some sneakers...on sale...maybe a 2 for 1 sale...if I can find a place that has size 15 in the Dallas area. Tried Target and Walmart...nada. Being anatomically endowed is a blessing as well as a curse. This past Sunday I used a washer and dryer, adhering to product design specifications, and washed my entire summer wardrobe which took only 1 washer; 2 towels, 3 pairs of undies, 5 shorts, 5 tank tops, 6 pair of ankle socks - yes, the washer was full but not overly so. I accomplished this during the hot tub/steam room routine. I got several sheets of used fabric softener from the laundry room trash and wow...clothes that don't have the slightest scent of chlorine! All for the price of $2.25! The only item that wasn't properly cleaned was the swimsuit I had on. Briefly considered adding it to the formal cleaning process but Earth's primitive nakydidaty morality advised otherwise. Someone seeing a naked human male lounging by the pool at dawn cheerfully smoking a cigarette and reading would more than likely have initiated the summoning of human authority figures with a strait jacket and Thorazine.
Well, that's it. BT could use some additional maintenance procedures but that'll have to be deferred. I've been ahead of her maintenance schedule from the onset and figure that the pampering she has received from me to date, she can last a bit longer. She only has 60,000 miles on her and that is low mileage considering that I bought her new in 1996. I know...she's never been out of the city of Dallas. The maintenance I'm referring to is coolant flush, transmission fluid flush, brake fluid flush and front bearing repacking, tuneup and rear differential fluid flush which amounts to a lot of flushes come to think of it. These are non-critical but I used to have them done on a yearly basis. Oh, the oil change...that is a bit more critical; have to catch an ad in the paper for a cheap one. Sorry, my lady, remember this is a temporary situation. The remaining funds will go to keeping fuel in BT and fuel in me till the next opportunity comes up. Spotted a couple in the Sunday paper want ads that I will follow up on.
Well, it's a bit after 11:30 PM and I have some things to do tomorrow which necessitates arising at 5 AM. I swear, one morning this week I'm going to sleep in...till 6 AM just to show the universe that I can take charge of my destiny (as if anyone really can). I should have another journal entry available Friday or Saturday of this week.
Have a good weed...ehh, week,
David
P.S.
Note to the IRS:
Guys, I was just kidding about your lack of involvement concerning the paycheck. Of course you'll get your cut. I swear. The check is in the mail...
Note to the DEA:
Guys, I was just kidding about the 'weed' comment. I swear. If you want, I'll mail you some of my urine...in about 45 days...or 21 days if I take another project like last week's.
Did you miss me? I've certainly missed you. Hope you had a pleasant Labor Day weekend.
I've been working as a temporary day laborer this past week and only the gods know how I made it thru and oh, how they must've chuckled. The days were 10 to 12 hours long, sweating profusely and as luck would have it, the usual Dallas summer returned in all it's hell spawned fury. I think the Oriental deodorant rock worked wonders considering that my co-workers did not faint when I was around them in the late afternoon. It's one thing to perform manual labor throughout the day but quite another to lounge about the pool drinking cold beer; if the only the latter paid a decent wage. At the end of the day you're feeling sweaty, grimy, gritty, oily and yucky with bits of various kinds of paint, wood, mortar and god knows what else all over you, bumps and scrapes from shrubbery and tools and, finally, just physically exhausted. I ended each day by the quiet pool for more reasons than one but principally to cool down and get the yucky stuff off. In case you're wondering, yes, my tan did get a bit deeper and I lost a couple of pounds. And I had to wear shoes and underwear for the entire time; was not used to that nor being on my feet all day long. The shorts and tank top would be wet by 9 AM and the salt lines in the clothes were very apparent at the end of the day. For some reason, sleep came readily when the darkness descended.
Each day started at 5 AM (which day doesn't?) with a bout in the hot tub followed by swimming several laps in the pool, cutting silently but powerfully through the still water not unlike a ravenous anaconda sinuously parting the river waters under an Amazonian full moon with the light dimly reflecting off a lean muscular frame searching for prey, it's purpose permeating the atmosphere with an eerie undertone of lethality. Orrrrr, another interpretation could be that of a drunk, crippled, overweight seal desperately executing Escape Maneuver Plan Alpha to avoid a swiftly pursing orca...to no avail. Anyway, those laps and the stretching out routine helped the limbering up process. Oddly enough, I wasn't sore from the work like I am sometimes from a workout. The legs did have a tendency to stiffen up during the commute home and there were a couple of times in the middle of the night when I was awakened by cramps. No, silly, the other kind of cramps; the ones that cowardly and viciously attack the backs of the upper part of the legs; the ones that make you scream out for mercy to gods that know you not. Myself, I immediately launch into a breathing meditation that Yoda taught me (patent pending) to relax the distressed tissues...and to cease my childlike whimpering and tears.
I was alerted to this opportunity by a benefactor's sister. He told me about it and I ended up working with her and her husband. The work crew consisted of them, me and the lead who was an older woman. They would pick me up in the parking lot of a nearby home improvement store at 6:30 AM for the drive to Fort Worth. The husband always brought homemade breakfast burritos and they were darn good. Looking back, those breakfasts were probably crucial to my endurance. Every day around 1 PM or later, the lead would go out and get lunch for us that consisted of fast food. Supper was usually a large Dr. Pepper with plenty of ice. I know, not exactly the healthiest intake on the planet but I'll get some more fruits and veggies for lunch and supper this week. The husband and I did the most physically demanding work while his wife did things such as mixing mortar, painting, etc. She is more of an interior designer from what I gathered. The lead did...well, she did spend a lot of time sitting in the air conditioned van, talking on the cell phone, doing errands and changing my tasks from one moment to the next which is not exactly adhering to contemporary project management philosophy. Oh, she did get lunch for us from fast food places that she picked up the tab for but it was light lunches which sat well with me. I did not want to feel full and working in that kind of heat. As for her physical contributions, I guess we could cut her some slack; after all, she is 58 years old and not in the best of shape. Her supervisory skills desperately need some polishing though...and maybe a project planning refresher course wouldn't hurt.
Now for a couple of side notes. First, when working in this kind of heat performing manual labor and drinking a considerable amount of ice water, urination during the course of the day is non-existent due to, I think, the fact that you are sweating like you are sitting in a wet sauna in the spa of hell with a bunch of hungry fire breathing dragons that are wondering how you would taste. Secondly, one would think that with the amount of walking and working out with weights that I do that I would be well prepared to endure the physical stress. Negatory, Pigpen. It probably helped but the physical exertions are of a different order. So all of you office types that work out regularly, sipping you latte and looking out of an air conditioned office window watching workers performing their tasks, thinking that that is easy, brainless work that you could walk out there and do, rein in your inflated self-importance and re-evaluate the basis of your erroneous self-perception and give those workers their due. A couple of hours into that first day, I was wondering if I would make it without throwing in the towel. Reviewing the office mates that I knew over the past decade, there are only a handful that I would give even odds to last, regardless of their age category. The couple that I was working with were pegged out at the end of the day also and they were not new to the game.
For enduring the sweat and toil, you're probably wondering what the paycheck reflected. It was for the small fortune of $500 of which taxes and such were not deducted of which I'm grateful; Uncle Sam can wait a bit longer. I used to make that amount in a day in my previous life. For those of you keeping score, that $500 is the same dollar figure I started out with in this new life around the first of May; that lasted approximately 10 weeks. For those of you really keeping score, you'll notice that the numbers don't add up. Benefactor assistance certainly extended resource allocation and expenditures but there are a couple of other elements that have not been factored into your equations and at this time, for some reason that I'm unable to formulate, I'm unwilling to share the characteristics of those elements that destiny blessed me with. I will do so in a future journal entry but I assure you it is nothing illegal or distasteful such as participating in a gay biker snuff film that involved Amazonian pygmies and farm animals adorned in 18th century French livery. It's not that I have anything against that type of scenario, it's just not for me. But if you find yourself in my situation, those elements would be beneficial to know and their possible yield could help.
The daily activity prevented me from thinking about this writing project as well as the other one due to the fact that concentration to the task at hand was vital if you wanted to avoid hitting a useful appendage with a hammer or to maintain your balance on a ladder (yes, height fear have I do) or avoiding a blow to the head by an airborne sign that you just popped loose with a crowbar. And there were a couple of time in those instances where my catlike reflexes served me well though there are some who would say that a blow to my head could improve my mental stability. Mental discipline also helped in staying inside the boundaries while painting which attests to the fact that elementary school skills are transferable to other disciplines...or in preparation for them. Sure wish they taught 'international jewel thief' subjects back then. During the 15-20 minutes lunch break, I found myself missing the weekly workouts, going to the library and working on the writing projects. The daily activity was also the source of psychological/emotional anguish; namely, it dirtied my nails! I cleaned them while rehabbing at the quiet pool each day. This past Saturday morning I broke out one of the jealously hoarded emery boards and gave all nails an impeccable cleaning and polishing. I felt much, much better. By the polishing, I don't mean with a brush and using a bottle of that paint stuff that has an addictive aroma. I use an emery board like thingy that you can get at a grocery store that is kind of rubbery. On one half of the board labeled Step One, you rub the nail with it and proceed to Step 2 and rub the nail with it and for the final step, you use the other side of the implement and, yep, you guessed it, rub the nail with it to produce a halfway decent shine.
I know what you're thinking - 'Oh my God!. That guy has a fortune! What's he going to do with it?' Well, first of all, I ate a decent meal late Saturday evening at a non-fast food place that helped in more ways than one. I topped off the tank in Black Thunder. Succumbing to a personal weakness, I bought some cigarettes and experienced something akin to a religious transformation multiple times. I bought a six-pack of beer Sunday and lounged by the quiet pool with nary another soul throughout the entire day. Did I mention that it was cheap beer? I absolutely must write the brewery and inquire about the type and quality of ingredients utilized during the fermentation process and length of time necessary for a horse to produce such heavenly output. By the balls of Saint Mary! What a Truck! I'm sitting at the small strip mall writing this under one of the lot lights that has a tree by it. I'm about 40 meters from a significant thoroughfare in the Far North Dallas area facing north and am about 70 meters from the traffic light. A truck just stopped at the light that rivals those trucks that you see on TV that jump over small buildings in a single bound. Is it legal to drive those on the street ? For that matter, why drive it on the street at all ? What it can't jump, it can drive thru. That is the largest truck I've ever seen on a street. Oh, yeah, sorry, what were we talking about? The horse...no, wait...resource expenditures. The renewal of insurance on Black Thunder is due in October, I think, to the tune of $107 for 6 more months. It wouldn't be a bad idea to buy some more minutes for the cell phone. I need to get some thongs...ehhh, flip flops...you know, open toed footwear. We still have some warm days in these parts and you know how I feel about shoes. The past several Thanksgivings, I was walking around barefoot wearing shorts and a tank top with the apartment door and windows open. I also need some new sneakers. The three pair I had have not fared well since the first of May. The first pair I had for some time and kept care of them. They were 'kicking about' footwear for working out, walking in the woods, wearing to the office or out to bars. Don't be concerned; I used cedar shoe horns in them. I left them in an environment where there was a dog and we know how dogs are. Anyway, they are no longer available. The second pair came to a bad end; that will be a journal entry unto itself. My current pair aren't really sneakers but Rockports that I used primarily for office footwear. I had to use them this past week and paint found it's way to them several times. I don't think that they were intended for manual labor environments. Plus, I think my feet have increased in width. So I need some sneakers...on sale...maybe a 2 for 1 sale...if I can find a place that has size 15 in the Dallas area. Tried Target and Walmart...nada. Being anatomically endowed is a blessing as well as a curse. This past Sunday I used a washer and dryer, adhering to product design specifications, and washed my entire summer wardrobe which took only 1 washer; 2 towels, 3 pairs of undies, 5 shorts, 5 tank tops, 6 pair of ankle socks - yes, the washer was full but not overly so. I accomplished this during the hot tub/steam room routine. I got several sheets of used fabric softener from the laundry room trash and wow...clothes that don't have the slightest scent of chlorine! All for the price of $2.25! The only item that wasn't properly cleaned was the swimsuit I had on. Briefly considered adding it to the formal cleaning process but Earth's primitive nakydidaty morality advised otherwise. Someone seeing a naked human male lounging by the pool at dawn cheerfully smoking a cigarette and reading would more than likely have initiated the summoning of human authority figures with a strait jacket and Thorazine.
Well, that's it. BT could use some additional maintenance procedures but that'll have to be deferred. I've been ahead of her maintenance schedule from the onset and figure that the pampering she has received from me to date, she can last a bit longer. She only has 60,000 miles on her and that is low mileage considering that I bought her new in 1996. I know...she's never been out of the city of Dallas. The maintenance I'm referring to is coolant flush, transmission fluid flush, brake fluid flush and front bearing repacking, tuneup and rear differential fluid flush which amounts to a lot of flushes come to think of it. These are non-critical but I used to have them done on a yearly basis. Oh, the oil change...that is a bit more critical; have to catch an ad in the paper for a cheap one. Sorry, my lady, remember this is a temporary situation. The remaining funds will go to keeping fuel in BT and fuel in me till the next opportunity comes up. Spotted a couple in the Sunday paper want ads that I will follow up on.
Well, it's a bit after 11:30 PM and I have some things to do tomorrow which necessitates arising at 5 AM. I swear, one morning this week I'm going to sleep in...till 6 AM just to show the universe that I can take charge of my destiny (as if anyone really can). I should have another journal entry available Friday or Saturday of this week.
Have a good weed...ehh, week,
David
P.S.
Note to the IRS:
Guys, I was just kidding about your lack of involvement concerning the paycheck. Of course you'll get your cut. I swear. The check is in the mail...
Note to the DEA:
Guys, I was just kidding about the 'weed' comment. I swear. If you want, I'll mail you some of my urine...in about 45 days...or 21 days if I take another project like last week's.
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