Old Factory Machinery

I got away for awhile yesterday.  Worked out in a different gym.  Took myself to a sushi lunch.  Did laundry at my own house.  I even got the garbage out on garbage day.  In the afternoon, I tried once again to make a website.  It was seeming impossible, so I looked for some tutorial videos.  After an hour of that, it still seemed impossible.  Not impossible but improbable, for this was only the intro to building the site.  Learning how to make aesthetic design choices would be covered in other videos.  The videos were all primers for what is touted as being the simplest, easiest way to build a website--Squarspace.  

Whatever.  

I scrolled through many, many old photographs that I have not seen for awhile.  I've got what I would consider to be a lot of good ones.  

"I've got."  That is terrible.  Common usage, I know, but it is a mangling of the language we have all regrettably come to accept.  Get/Got/Have Gotten.  "I have" would suffice.  

How far have the mighty fallen.  

I received a text the other night from my old boss at the factory telling me one of the full-time factory workers had died.  He had worked at the factory for almost as long as I, but he had only worked in my old department since I had left.  It was a sudden and fairly tragic death.  I wrote to let one of the other retired factory workers from my department know.  She, in turn, queried the department secretary.  Apparently, the factory knew nothing about it.  In turn, I got a text from my old secretary.  

"This place has turned to shit since you left," she said.  

It got me thinking.  The factory kicks into full gear in another two weeks.  They are going to need someone to take the dead man's shifts.  Hmm.  I'm sure I could get hired as a temp full-timer.  I let my brain fool around with the idea.  I could use the influx of cash.  There I was again, brilliant, funny, engaging.  It would be a gas.  

Later, I came to my senses.  It would be a whole lot of work I haven't done in years.  Oh, it would be fun for a bit, but it would begin to drag and I would be locked in, an indentured servant, slogging on until the end of the season.  

Still. . . the money.  

When I got back to my mother's house, she was on the phone with a friend.  She seemed o.k.  I had brought home pork chops and asparagus.  I would slice up some potatoes to go with it all.  I prepped the food and made a cocktail, sat down, and watched a bit of news.  Cocktail finished, I put on the local university jazz station and began to cook.  

Dinner was healthy enough, but it lacked flavor.  It was unappetizing at best.  Bland.  

Later, I spent an hour trying to get my Firestick to work so I could watch Netflix.  I was pissed.  This had happened before.  Amazon Prime kept telling me my memory card was full and that I needed to delete som apps, but every time I tried, nothing would be deleted.  There were apps I have never downloaded or used.  Where did they come from?  What sort of tomfoolery was Amazon playing?  I paid money for this "convenience"?  I thought about cancelling all my subscriptions and saving the money.  

In the end, the fix was simply switching DMI ports.  

I think.  

My mother went to bed before ten.  Now that she is taking her pain meds, she is able to sleep in her bed rather than on the couch.  Alone, without the constant fidgeting and moaning, I stayed up until midnight, quite late for me.  

And there you have it--a day in the life of.  Today will be another.  

It is hurricane season now.  The Weather Channel loves it.  We usually get the first dangers in late August, but with climate change, it is difficult to say.  The Atlantic hurricanes are not our real danger.  The ones that form in the Gulf of Trump are.  We are, as they say, on the wrong side of the storm.  Hurricane watches bring great anxiety and then, if we are not lucky, much misery.  We will sit and hope that misery goes to visit someone else.  I have to say that I have had enough misery this year and could use a little luck.  

Seven com eleven, baby needs booties.  

I think I'll go with a Greek salad tonight.  Load up on the veggies.  Give the gut a good dose of fiber.  Raw foods.  A cold dinner on a hot night.  

Here's a little bit of music I heard while cooking last night.  I tried to dance to it, but I looked like what I am.  I need to dance more.  I moved like a rusty machine that hadn't been started for years.