Room With a View

Last few days have been quiet — no weird dreams, no disturbing text messages, no contact with neighbors.

With the blinds being stuck to where I couldn’t open them up to let sunlight in, I hadn't even able to indulge in sitting on the couch, spotting neighbors on the walkway.

That changed on Wednesday, when Assistant Maintenance Guy finally showed up with a new track for the blinds to slide on.

Now I’m back to having a room with a view, and actually spotted the new Next-Door Neighbor arriving today, not with furniture yet, just to spend about 20 minutes inside …… checking out the place, I guess.

It’s an elderly female; so quiet, safe.

From the quick glimpse I saw of her, she’s nowhere near as old as I …… maybe late 60’s, and she looks stern, severe, boring, like Mother Superior at the Nunnery, white hair and all.

Won’t be any tea coming from or about her, and she’s probably even less into decorating for Halloween than former Next-Door Neighbor.

Though quiet, the last few days haven’t been exactly idle, as I’ve been a whirling dervish scrapbooking fool, getting the latest batch of photos into the Great Grands Creative Memory Book No. 12.

I'd been creatively stuck in neutral for a bit then, last few days, layouts began whirling through my head at rapid pace — pages and pages and pages were completed; layouts for other pages were documented so I’d not forget the ideas that had come to mind while I wait for supplies to come in.

At last Friday’s BBQ, a few of the residents asked for a print of the photo I’d taken of them at the photo booth. I’d sent those photos for processing to my usual 1-hour photo Lab and was surprised to get a ready in three days’ notice.

Maybe the photo lab was closed for the Memorial Day Holiday weekend, thought I, and patiently waited.

Three days later, on Wednesday, I get notified the order had been cancelled …… no reason.

Unusual, but giving the Lab benefit of the doubt, I thought perhaps they’d been so backlogged over the Holiday that cancelling orders had been necessary.

I resubmitted the order, only to receive another three-days to process notice.

WTF? People are waiting for their pics. It wasn't a huge order, just a handful of photos; and there was nothing naughty in the photos that would warrant cancellation, but whatever. That Lab is a favorite, but not the only in the area.

I submitted the order to a Lab at a drug store over by the college, and they were ready in 1-hour.

I picked the order up same day/yesterday, but didn’t get around to opening until this morning and found not only my photos, but people I didn’t recognize on an outing to San Diego Zoo.

Knowing how valuable my photos are to me, assuming this other family's photos to be just as important, I pondered the best way to ensure they got their pics.

For sure, I didn't trust returning to the Lab, putting the onus on them.

Fortunately, along with that family’s photos was the order sheet including the name, telephone number of the person ordering.

I ran the name through Facebook, but nothing came up.

I then thought calling the telephone number listed would be the most effective way of ensuring the family got their photos, but that calling the person could go very wrong for me because "no good deed goes unpunished".

I took a chance, called anyway, and she answered.

I gotta tell you, had that been me, I would not have accepted a call from a number I didn't recognize, but she answered.

I introduced myself, said "You don’t know me, but I yesterday picked up photos from the Photo Lab, and found your San Diego Zoo pics mixed in".

Fortunately, she didn’t think I was scamming or crank calling. Instead, she laughed, wondered how the Lab could make such an error.

Turns out she lives very close by, immediately jumped in the car, drove over to pick the photos up, saying they were important because were photos of her son, nephew, grandbabies.

She seemed a fun lady …… talkative. Said she wasn't too surprised about the mix-up, because she had questions about the woman she'd dealt with at the Lab when placing the order. Said the woman didn't seem very bright, LOL.

I didn't say so, but I was thinking I must have dealt with that same person when I picked up my order, because she kept asking my name, couldn't find the order until I pulled up the confirmation on my phone to show her the number and she realized she'd been looking through packages, not photos.

Interesting how the whole thing played out … how my regular Lab let me down, I had to switch Labs, and the mix-up got me involved in what followed.

Tell Me Anything

Still waiting for the picture frame to arrive. Tracking indicates still in transit, even though the notice indicates it was scheduled to be delivered Friday.

I’m holding my breath this is not a repeat of the craft lamp I’d ordered that was delivered, but not to me, not even to my building, just disappeared into the ethers.

I’ve just about got the hundred or so photos of the Great Grandbabies (backed up since last December) organized so I can began placing them into the Creative Memory album, and because my brain is in creative mode — individual photos are speaking to me telling me what background paper would work well and layouts are swimming in my head, last few days have been constant motion ……… Up, down, around, up down around for hours, in one room to search through my paper stash, to the table to organize photos, to the couch to document ideas into a document on the laptop, bending, stooping, lifting. If I’d worn my tracker, I’m sure I would have clocked in at least three miles per day and my route would look something like this, with occasional detours to the kitchen.

Needless to say, I haven’t had the time or inclination to socialize with the seniors. My only contact has been a text message from Talker saying "You’re coming to Thanksgiving on the 21st aren’t you?"

"I am" was my reply.

It’s an eating event and, because I have to control was ingredients are in the foods I eat, I generally do not attend eating events. However, the Baker had already told me she was roasting a turkey and, because she’s doing the cooking, I’m comfortable with the hygiene and that there won’t be any seasonings added that will cause my sensitive gut to rebel.

BTW, at the Halloween event, I saw the Baker and MAGA standing at the open refrigerator and spotted two turkeys.

Baker tells me Dream Lover supplied the turkeys.

Who needs Management and an Activity Director when we can pull together to do for ourselves.

And an additional BTW, management told us they withhold money from Kesha so they can use the funds to give us parties at Thanksgiving and Christmas.

Thanksgiving is 16 days away and there has been no mention of management hosting the usual Thanksgiving event, and I'm not holding my breath for Christmas.

Where's the money going?

Baker also indicated there will be sweet potatoes, cranberry sauce and other sides.

I can eat sweet potatoes, have to pass on the cranberry sauce, and will make my own gluten free/fodmap dressing, gravy and hope Upstairs Lady and the MAGA around the corner don’t irritate me into tossing my cookies or walking out to keep from yelling at them.

Late Thursday afternoon, I stepped outside to take trash to the dumpster, saw MAGA turn a corner off in the distance, waved hello, dropped the trash in the bin, began walking back to my unit when she called for me to wait up.

Looking harried and a bit disheveled she said, "Can I tell you something".

Puzzled, I said "sure".

She went into this soliloquy about having words with someone she would not name, other than to say the individual is a bully.

HA! So is she. She just doesn’t know it.

"I’m not going to tell you what the argument was about, but I defended myself. Now that person is going around telling others stuff about me, and I just want to ask that if you hear anything, you take into consideration there are two sides to every story".

"Not to worry", said I. "I’m an independent thinker, not easily manipulated; besides, people around here generally don’t tell me stuff like that".

She kept going on about it and, because my brain was in creative mode, I didn’t retain more of what she said except, at one point, she was talking about other people this person supposedly had bullied, so I guessed it was Upstairs Lady.

"No. It’s L" (the Talker) she said.

Well, that was a surprise. MAGA is beefing with Talker.

I don’t really care one way or another. My name is Bennett and I’m not in it.

However, though MAGA didn’t tell me what the argument was about, I can guess that, per usual, control freak that she is, MAGA opened her mouth, got into conversations that were none of her business — like she did at last week’s Halloween event that so annoyed me, tried to control what others should think, say, feel in front of Talker and, as I’m sure it wasn’t MAGA’s first time to do so in front of Talker, only this time Talker had had enough, yelled and told MAGA off like I’d wanted but restrained myself from doing last week, and MAGA verbally fought back.

That must have been quite something to see and, because MAGA still seemed upset about words having been said and Talker now badmouthing her, I’m sure it’s not over.

My head will be on swivel at the Thanksgiving event to see if it spills over, LOL.

The very next day, getting out of the car in the market parking lot, I heard a man’s agitated voice off in the distance say, "I know her! She’s a friend of my wife!"

I looked around, didn’t see anything but, before I stepped away from the car, here comes this man looking enraged. He stopped in front of me (I didn’t feel the least bit threatened, his energy wasn’t that) and told me the story.

Evidently, he was having a conversation with a woman on the lot. A female store employee approached, asked the woman he was speaking with "Are you okay, ma'am?".

Whereupon he’d uttered those words I’d heard about knowing the woman, that she was a friend of his wife.

Seeing him upset/offended, the store employee had then said, "I have to check".

He was highly insulted, told me, "I work for a living. I’m not a threatening person; it was none of her business. We were talking. My voice was not raised" yada yada yada.

"I’m sorry that happened to you", said I, "But in all fairness to the store employee, one never knows these days".

He wasn’t having it and continued to rant until he got it out of his system; whereupon I said, "Don’t let it ruin your day" and continued on into the market.

My week in a nutshell the few times I left my sanctuary, ventured into the outside world ………

Nobody Puts Baby in a Corner

I didn’t work out this morning, won’t be working out Friday, I broke up with Trainer.

It was a shock when I walked into the Pain Cave on Monday, found Trainer had once again moved the warm-up station, which consists of the treadmill and strength equipment.

Long time readers will recall Trainer has a habit of doing so.

In the 5 years he’s been my personal trainer, Trainer has moved the warm-up station something like 9 or 10 times from one area of the Cave to another — different areas in the main room, then from one area to another in the back room, then back to the front room, back to the back room, so on and so forth.

Reason being, "You are the only client using the treadmill", Trainer said …… a treadmill he finds in the way of his boxing clients.

The others personal training clients do jumping jacks and squats in-between sets/reps instead of the treadmill, and though some of the boxers have also used the treadmill to run, it didn't seem to matter to Trainer that I wasn't actually the only one using.

I understood Trainer’s logic ─ I’m old, have to do things the gentle way, so though I didn’t always like where I was moved to and felt somewhat like the red-haired stepchild that doesn’t quite fit in, I adjusted.

Last year or so, I was quite content with a corner in the back room — I had privacy, Alexa was set to provide music I enjoy working out to, so all was well.

However, I should have known something was afoot when Trainer began saying things like, "You don’t need all this area".

"You are the one that put me here", said I, and that was that. Until, I came in one day and found three quarters of the back room had been fitted with pads for the fighters, which meant not only was there now no space for the floor ladder equipment and the ropes, but when there was an overflow of fighters in the front room, I’d sometimes be watching fighters spar in the same room I was being trained in.

Over the years, Trainer’s fighting side of the business has exploded. He’s made a name for himself in the world of Muay Thai boxing as this big shot trainer, with fighters who are winning high profile events. Consequently, people are coming from all over to train with him, so I adjusted and sometimes enjoyed watching the boys tussle.

But then, on Monday, I walked in and found Trainer had moved me from the back room to the front room where the bulk of his fighters are now training.

Watching two in-training while working out was one thing; watching 10 to 12 boxing, sweating, grunting is a different animal.

My workout station was relegated to a tight, cramped corner in the back of the room, by a sink and the bathroom. I had no privacy, had not the music I enjoy working out to, did not see any of the strength equipment I usually work out with and, if he’d set aside to pull out later, there was not the room for me to perform side and overhead lifts. Not to mention the odor in the room alone emanating from those hot sweaty bodies, was enough to gag.

So, there I was, the red-haired stepchild, back of the bus like Rosa Parks, squeezed into a feng shui chi less corner, feeling claustrophobic, uncomfortable, surrounded by fighters — most of whom I know, refer respectfully to me as "Miss Shirley", and Trainer devoting his time between training me and coaching them.

Mama wasn’t happy.

I did hint at my unhappiness by saying to Trainer that with all the fame and glory he's getting, he shouldn't forget those of us who were with him in the beginning; that "You have no loyalty".

He didn’t catch the hint, took it as a joke.

When I left the Pain Cave on Monday, there wasn’t that feeling of euphoria I usually get from working out. Instead, I felt a heaviness.

Yesterday, when I went down to the Community Room for crafts, I found the room full of residents. No crafts that day, instead there were waiting for some kind of luncheon to begin.

I just said a quick hello to everyone, was preparing to head back to my unit when the little Spanish lady that I’d gone to Zumba class with, stopped me. asked if I was still working out at the Pain Cave.

"I’m thinking about quitting", came out of nowhere.

I hadn’t realized I was thinking about quitting, but having heard myself say it out loud, I couldn’t stop thinking about it, tossed and turned all last night, dreading about going in to train, face that tight cramped warm-up station and other conditions this morning.

Waking up this morning, I was set on not going in today, realized that this was actually the end of the road for Trainer and I.

Trainer outlasted my other relationships but, in the end, he made the same mistake others have made ……… Got too relaxed, took me for granted.

I'm not good at breaking up. When not happy in a relationship — dentist, hairdresser, boyfriend, etc., I change my number, drop out of sight, ghost 'em, but Trainer and I had grown especially close, so I sent him a proper breakup message.

He offered to change my workout time to when no one else is in the Cave, which is what it was like before his business blew up, but I declined saying, "There's now no place for me to be moved to. It’s still the same tight cramped corner that I’m not comfortable with", so he was gracious, texted back ……

Which made me cry.

First time a breakup hurt my heart, so now I’m walking around weepy, but already considering what to do to stay fit — maybe online workout classes, so I don’t have to leave the unit or sign up for the Zumba class being offered across the street.

While I'm considering my next move, Trainer is probably having the treadmill carted out, LOL.

Trainer’s wife is going to be mad at him. She’s warned him before about moving me from pillar to post so often, and now it’s cost him the loss of an easy $240 a month, for a half hours' worth of work.

In other news ……

Not the fancy Ott lamp I prefer, but delivery was fast, on-point, and Verilux is doing the job.

Case of the Missing Box, Part 3

Case closed.

The good news is that no one in this complex is pathetic enough to not have let me know the box was misdelivered to their unit.

There have been neighbors pathetic enough to have kept smaller packages — makeup, tops, Creative Memory supplies, blood pressure medication and, if gifted with a whole big box, might have kept it, but not in this instance.

Manager and the Maintenance guys took a look at the photo, checked out a few gated areas, determined something that had initially crossed my mind before I noticed we did have gated doors and Ernie said he'd seen the unit I was looking for …… that the box might not have been delivered to this property.

They caught something I’d missed …… that the color of the building in the photo didn’t match the colors of this property, ergo not only did the delivery driver not deliver to my door, he didn't even deliver to this complex.

That’s a humungous delivery mistake. Delivery driver must be dyslexic.

The bad news is that I’ll never ever know where that box landed, the who so I can give that person the evil eye but, as the recipient still had the option of being decent — notifying FedEx of the mix-up, I don’t necessarily have to know who the person is for Karma to kick in.

They will lose ten times over.

On the other hand, I don’t know IF the box landed at all.

That photo could have been taken in delivery driver’s own back yard.

Seriously because, believe it or not, there have been instances where delivery people take photos of items supposedly delivered, then themselves turn around and cart the items off.

I've seen people posting videos, from their ring cameras, catching delivery people doing that exact same thing, and it happened to Twin 2 back in April.

What you see in the video is the Amazon delivery driver, unaware of their being a camera in that area, after dropping off a box, verifying delivery by taking a photo, picking up the box then straight up absconding with it.

I don't know what he thought he was delivering, that he'd risk his job by stealing what turned out to be cat food and yarn, but I guess those items, and whatever else he's managing to pilfer from his other deliveries, might sell well at the swap meet he's probably running on the side with his stolen loot.

Of course, Twin 2 made a complaint to Customer Service, and last I heard …… nothing. No word back, no nothing.

I don't know if she got a refund or reordered or both, but she's no pushover, so it's safe to say both.

I’m going out on a limb, taking one last stab at ordering a craft lamp ……… a Verilux which commenter Anonymous brought to my attention, rather than the Ott I'd been aiming for.

Crossing my fingers that delivery goes right this time.

Today is Pizza Tuesday. Activity Director is back from her two-week vacation.

There was no Calendar of Events issued this month, so the plan is to head to the Community Room later this morning, check out if we’re having any kind of crafts today.

BTW, the organizers decided on Wednesday, July 2, for the 4th of July BBQ.

That’s a workout day for me, but I’ll rush back to check the event out, take a few photos for the residents' facebook page.

Case of the Missing Box, Part 2

Yesterday was laundry day. So, while going back/forth to the laundry room, I walked around a bit and located six white gated doors.

I never before noticed that some of us have gated doors.

How did they get so lucky?

I want one.

At any rate, none of the doors I spotted had the tell-tell sign — that plant, but at least I now know we do have units with gated doors, the box was delivered to this complex.

Seeing Miracle Guy out and about — the resident who survived being shot on two separate occasions, knifed and fire bombed, I showed him the photo, asked if he recognized the unit.

He did not, but had a lot to say about the poor FedEx, UPS and Amazon delivery service around here.

Seeing two random residents on a walkway, I approached, asked if they recognized the unit depicted in the photo. Neither did.

By walking up on random residents, getting them involved in the hunt, I run the risk that one of these random folks actually being or knowing and warning the culprit, but that’s okay with me because fear of being found will set in, the culprit will panic, get rid of the loot, think twice about absconding with other people’s property in the future.

Speaking of fear. Isn’t it interesting that shortly after I yesterday posted about my displeasure with FedEx, the Founder of FedEx chose to leave this plane of existence.

Coincidence or did he flee to escape my ire?

Just as I was finishing up in the laundry room, Ernie — the resident we threw a surprise birthday party for a week or so ago, walked by.

Ernie is always out and about, walking his dog, so I showed that photo to Ernie who said, "I’ve seen that door (looked over his shoulder towards the opposite side of the complex to indicate somewhere over there), but I can’t remember where".

Ernie will let me know when he remembers or sees the door again on his walks.

Deciding I needed a treat to fully recover from the aggravation of all that involved the purchase and delivery of that craft lamp, I drove to Starbucks for a half-caf Americano and saw well-mannered service dogs in-training being treated to pup cups.

Heading back to the complex, passing the site across the street where that homeless encampment had been, I was expecting to see some if not all of the former occupants had returned.

Not yet. Surprisingly, the only occupant thus far is one lone tent dweller.

Waking up this morning, checking emails, I find I’ve already been issued a refund for the missing lamp.

WOW! I’m amazed that all I had to say was I didn’t get it because FedEx misdelivered.

This must happen a lot.

I hope there’s some kind of penalty attached to the FedEx driver so he’ll be more careful in the future.

Does that mean the hunt is now over?

HELL NO!

I want to find that resident, know who around here is so pathetic as to not have knocked on my door, tell me they have a misdirected package, come and get it or walk it over, as I and others here are known to do, so I’m waiting to hear back from the email I sent to Manager, asking if she or the maintenance guys recognize the unit.

I’m not sure that, even if management recognizes the unit, they will want to get involved, let me know for fear I’d kick the offending resident’s butt, which I wouldn’t, but management doesn’t know that.

What I will do is put ‘em on blast with the grapevine, and give the person or persons the Evil Eye whenever I see them out and about.

Case of the Missing Box

I’d posted earlier in the month, that the craft lamp died. No worries thought I, it was in bad shape, being held together with electrical tape, I’ll purchase another.

Inasmuch as the popular craft stores have closed, purchasing another turned out to be not as easy as it used to be.

Fortunately, though in-store is no longer available, those craft stores still maintain an online presence, so I ordered a replacement, received a delivery date only to, a week later, receive an email that the order was cancelled.

In investigating who cancelled and why, it was a cryptic "manufacturer issue".

Assuming it was a problem with that particular style lamp, I ordered a different style from the same craft store, received a delivery date, then once again received an email the order was cancelled, money refunded.

Hmmmm? I wondered if these cancellations had something to do with the lamps being made in China and the tariffs.

Whatever the reason, it was getting annoying. Like, why are you still offering the product, going through the steps if you can’t deliver. Remove the item from the website.

Done with that particular source, I ordered from a different craft store.

Lo and behold, it was the same thing ……… received a delivery date, followed by an email the order was cancelled, money refunded.

Getting the message that the craft stores are advertising items they cannot provide, I looked to the "knit for Jesus" homophobic, racist, anti-semitic place but they at least had removed craft lamps from their site, as did the big box stores I looked to, even the blacklisted Walmart and Target I was reduced to breaking rank and looking to.

Googling craft lamps in general, I found a business offering a few used and new. I ordered new, received a delivery date, and held my breath.

Yet another cancellation did not come. Instead, I received notification the item was on its way, to be delivered by FedEx last Tuesday.

Tuesday didn’t happen, but I wasn’t worried, delays happen, and patiently waited for delivery.

I never ever entertained the thought that a box as large as I was expecting might have been misdelivered. That is until yesterday, when I received a survey to rate how satisfied I was with the delivery.

Delivery? What delivery? I never got a delivery.

I rated zero, the reason as having never received the package and asked for a refund.

That set off emails instructing me to look for the package in the neighborhood and contact FedEx.

On the Fed Ex site I found a photo that indicated the box was delivered on Tuesday, 2:01 pm to a door that not only doesn’t look like my door, but doesn’t look like a door in this complex.

On the off chance we do have a door here that looks like the above, I opened the Case of the Missing Box by text messaging the Usual Suspects, asking if they recognized the door. They didn’t, but said they’d look for it when out and about.

I also emailed Manager asking if we have a unit with a screen door.

Manager won’t see the email until tomorrow, so I won’t get an answer until then but, in the interim, I’ve already resigned myself to never seeing that craft lamp ……… that, if we do have a unit here that looks like that, the box has been opened by now, the contents sold or given away, the resident of that unit, in spite of the photo, absolutely denying ever receiving.

If we do have that door in the complex, even if the craft lamp is now gone, I’d still like to know who the resident is so I can give them the evil eye when I see them out and about, let them know I know what kind of human you are, make them feel uncomfortable.

Inasmuch as it was so difficult to find a place that could actually fulfill the order in the first place, delivery people can’t get it right, and we have asshole neighbors around here that, when deliveries go wrong, take advantage and keep the items (it’s happened before to me and others; and it’s happened a lot) I’ll not even try to order another. I’ll manage with sunlight coming through the patio window and the sun lamp.

Curses, Foiled Again

Leaving the market yesterday, after popping in after that morning’s workout, I saw a bird seemingly having a bad day.

He flew away just as I ended taping.

This morning, Manager replied to my email about California Code, Civil Code - CIV § 1947.3 prohibiting landlords and their agents from requiring tenants to pay rent only by electronic means.

It likely took a day to reply because Corporate had to first look at the Code. Manager then had to work out a response after hearing back from them.

As I’d surmised ... that management was technically in compliance because checks and money orders were still being accepted by the office for now, that is exactly how the response was framed.

"We are fully aware of the code (not bloody likely), we comply with all local and state laws, and we are still accepting checks and money orders. You simply just have to personally deliver it to us in the office. However, we will not accept postdated checks."

Curses, foiled again; but it was worth a try.

At least management now knows they can never achieve the goal of one form of payment, that being Rent Café; that the office will have to continue accepting walk-in payments.

So maybe management will stop all the many methods they’d been trying to force us to Rent Café. Be happy with those of us who capitulated and be done with it.

In other happenings, I received an email for my auto insurer, the other day, indicating I needed to update my odometer reading.

I logged into the account, updated the reading on my Jeep Renegade to 19,466.

Not a lot of miles in 7 years‘ of ownership, but not unbelievable that someone could log in so few miles in seven years.

The insurer evidently didn’t buy it.

They mailed a document for me to sign, under penalty of perjury.

A little insulting, don’t you think, and not the first time.

I forget what I was driving back in the day when it happened, probably a Beetle, but it was before the internet, so such updating was by telephone.

When I read off the odometer reading to the agent at that time, she said, "If you’re not giving me an accurate reading, it could cause you to lose your insurance".

Pretty much called me a liar, assumed I was lying about my low mileage in order to get a discounted rate.

So, anyway, I filled out the form with a now odometer reading of 19,612 miles. The increase because of the day I had to drive from one end of town to another seeking a pharmacy that was open, then the following day having to drive to the main Medical Center.

At any rate, I’m going to lose it on my insurer if they communicate a problem with the difference between the mileage first reported a few weeks ago, and the mileage now being submitted.

Another interesting thing about the Jeep is that, when I last stopped into the air check station, the guy said my two front tires needed to be replaced — something about the wear patterns.

I’m no expert, but I looked at both tires and the thread looks fine to me.

With less than 20,000 miles on the odometer, I think I’m being hustled about the front tires needing to be replaced.

My Box Runneth Over

My mailbox that is.

I’ve been stewing for over a week because the post office's Informed Delivery Notification system showed a red top I’d ordered had been delivered, but I never received it.

Jumping to the conclusion the postal carrier had messed up, placed my package in the wrong box and the resident receiving had decided to keep rather than turn over (it’s happened more than twice here), I decided I’d had enough of dishonest people and planned to keep an eye out for someone on the property wearing my top.

I visualized myself approaching the individual, say "Nice top, but you do know it’s stolen". Ask if they are the one that received all the other misdelivered items.

I wouldn’t want the top back. Just to embarrass the culprit, let the person know I was onto her.

Along with stewing over the missing top, I began obsessing that the postal carrier might misdeliver my Luigi Mangione candle, due to arrive any day.

Informed Delivery notification indicated today is the day Luigi would arrive. So, after this morning’s workout, I headed straight for the mail box and found the box filled to the brim, stuffed and spilling over.

When was the last time you checked mail? I thought to myself and figured it to have been December 27.

The holidays really messed me up. There was just too much going on during, shortly after, then came the outages. So somehow, I just totally forgot to pick up mail.

So anyway, Luigi arrived safe and sound.

Also in the box was that red top Informed Delivery indicated had been delivered, but I was stewing over having not received. It had been sitting in the mailbox all along.

Tax info in the box reminded me it’s tax season, so I’ve got that to take care of and fortunately, my utilities are automatic payments, so I wasn’t in danger of any shutoffs because I didn’t see the bill in the mailbox. (That too has happened. My renter’s insurance got cancelled because, even though I did pull the bill from the mailbox, I put it aside and forgot. Oh well).

Also in the mail I picked up today was a nice surprise gift from blog friends Dawn and Princess T.

Thanks Ladies!

Today is no bingo Friday, so I won’t see any residents to find out if they saw Bicycle Boy on the property yesterday.

However, heading to this morning’s workout I caught a quick glimpse of a favorite couple of mine, driving in traffic on their motorized wheelchairs, headed to the bus stop.

Winds now gone, safe to drive on the freeway, I'm off to the tire place tomorrow to check on a slow leak. Then See's Candy to medicate myself into an I Don't Care frame of mind to get me through knowing that not only one, but two of my favorite country western music favorites (Carrie Underwood and Rascal Flatts) have gone over to the dark side, will be performing at the inauguration.

I won't be watching, but just knowing they've sold out, put money and getting in with the ruling class over personal integrity, is disappointing.

Waiting to Exhale

Nerves still on edge, I’m afraid to wake up tomorrow morning — learn I can breathe again or if we’re screwed.

I need to drive to Redland today, have my cellphone looked at because it’s been tech heck with not being able to first swipe to accept calls and then, when I changed to tap — which worked for a while, but now doesn't work either and, when a call comes in, the phone goes to some kind of Assistant that reverts the call to text.

Absolute tech heck.

Problem with driving to Redlands is, I can’t trust myself to be around people while nerves are on edge because, if I run into poor service, I can’t promise I’ll be able to maintain. Not turn into a Karen.

I did yesterday — turned into a Karen that is. Asked to speak to the Manager, made a complaint, walked out without picking up a prescription and then Yelped a bad review for the local pharmacy.

Stopping at the pharmacy after yesterday’s workout, I was pleased to see it was a slow day — only three of us in line. I'd be in/out lickety split.

The first customer was at the counter already, picked up his package and walked away. When he walked away the young lady at the counter, instead of taking Customer No. 2, walked away and began a conversation with a coworker about something personal I wish I’d paid attention to or recorded, because she left Customer No. 2 and I hanging for 10 minutes or more.

Customer No. 2 kept turning around, complaining to me, making yak yak yak fingers with her hands to indicate the girls were ignoring us, talking instead.

"I know, I can hear them talking", said I.

When counter girl finally acknowledged Customer No. 2, took care of her pick up order, she repeated the poor lack of customer service process.

Instead of calling me to the counter, she went back to her personal conversation, picked up a few prescription packages, filed them, at  which point I was talking outloud ……… "I can’t believe she’s filing when I’m standing here ... Can she not see me? .... Am I invisible?", I said to myself.

By then, I’d been standing in line on a slow day for at least 20 minutes or more, leaned on the wall for support, thought about taking a chair from another section, dragging it over, waiting it out, but then decided screw it, walked away. But not without stopping to make a complaint with the Manager, who began walking towards the Pharmacy saying "I’ll have a talk with them" (counter girl and the coworker she’d been chatting with, while ignoring customers).

Later that night, I yelped the heck out of that Pharmacy. So, I’d best stay home today, shampoo the carpet or something, keep away from the possibility of running into more idiot people, because I’m all out of suffering poor customer service without making a fuss.

On another note, patio Halloween decorations are back in storage; except, seeing how some had turned their skeletons into lamps, the plan was to order a lighting kit and turn Skelly into a lamp.

Dragging Skelly inside, having researched the process of making a base, running electrical cords through Skelly, yada yada yada, I came to the conclusion too complicated for me, and decided to go another way.

Running the pole of the sun lamp I'd purchased a while back through Skelly's body, I've got a hilarious year-round lamp that makes me smile.

Open up and say Ahhhh

It works.

High Winds Warning

Plan for today was to walk the complex.

I’d done so both Saturday and Sunday. The freezing cold seeming to be behind us, I even removed the bubble wrap from the bedroom window.

So, after sticking my head out the door, to determine if I needed to dress in long sleeves or short sleeves for outside, and almost being knocked back by the force of wind coming through the door, I decided to stay safely indoors today, no walking.

Checking the weather channel, finding a High Wind Warning for the area — 30 to 40 mph with gusts to 70 mph, I decided also no driving.

Speaking of driving … as I was driving into the complex yesterday, returning from the morning’s workout, who did I see driving out but that technician that tried to gaslight me.

What are the chances he was servicing another unit for the same reason? …… the outages caused problems with that resident’s equipment as well.

If so, after yesterday’s snafu when he tried to blame the problem on the laptop and my supposedly not knowing how to connect to the internet, he knew not to go that route again. Would instantly know to swap out the network.

Still no signs of Camper Guy in the area, and Trainer has no idea why.

Maybe CG is travelling and will return, maybe not, but Trainer doesn’t care. He’s all excited — like a kid in a candy store, about the new upgrade to the camera — the upgrade that enables him to view that side of the building on his phone, alerts him when anyone is in the area and will set off an alarm if glass is shattered.

Boys and their toys, LOL.

As Trainer had me on and off the treadmill, working on sit downs/sit ups in-between, I complained about the market having hired yet another leud and lascivious acting guy as Security and how, to add to the creepiness, this one looks exactly like my deceased ex-husband, could be his twin.

To which Trainer said, "Maybe it’s him".

Not unusual for Trainer to think that way inasmuch as he’s an old soul.

In fact, a few months ago, he’d asked if I’d seen any quarters lately ……… because I was always finding quarters in and around the Cave (along with other places I’d go) and shared with Trainer how my deceased sister said quarters would be a sign she was around.

I’d responded "No, because she’s back already".

Quarters became fewer and fewer and ended altogether around the time granddaughter was expecting the great granddaughter. I’d not thought about it at the time. However, when great granddaughter was born, it became obvious why quarters had ended.

Sister is back already and whether others accept the phenomena of reincarnation or not, no one can tell me different.

The baby looks exactly like my sister … same nose, same facial structure, same smile ……………… and born in the same hospital where sister passed away.

So, because Trainer is an old soul — thinks outside the lines, knows deep meaningful things without knowing how he knows them, it wasn’t at all unusual for him to surmise Security Guard might be my ex returned to body form, except guard is too old to be he.

The ex passed away in ’97, and though it’s difficult for me to guage people’s age, guard looks to be on the tail end of middle-age, too old to be ex because, if returned, he could be no older than 27.

3-Day Weekend

This morning wasn’t the usual Monday routine ….. not because Trainer took a day off — he never takes a day off, not even holidays, but because I had to stay home, once again wait for the cable company’s technician.

It wasn’t the TV this time, and it wasn’t something idiotic on my part … like when I’d not realized the cable box was turned off. This time it was the internet network.

On Saturday, we’d experienced two back-to-back complete power outages in the area. The outages didn’t last long as coverage was restored within 15 minutes each time, but I surmise the outages screwed up my network because, everything seemed fine that evening, but when I tried to log-into the laptop on Sunday, the message was "cannot connect" to the network.

No amount of rebooting the network from my end, or the cable provider sending a reprovision signal from their end, cured what ailed the network so, when given an 11:00 - 12:00 time for a technician, interfering with my 11 am workout time, it wasn’t even a difficult decision. Much as I like and need my workouts, I like and need the internet even more.

I might as well have worked out and then returned to wait for the technician, because he didn’t show up until close to 2:00 pm.

From there it was showing me how to do all the things logic had already prompted me do to get the network restarted and, just as when I previously ran through all those avenues, they didn’t work ……… the laptop continued to display "no connection" to the network.

Technician then pronounced the problem was not the network. That because my phone still connected to the network, the problem had to be the laptop, and he couldn’t help me because the laptop was not in his wheelhouse.

I disagreed.

I’m no expert but, being a logical thinker, I’d considered that possibility and had checked the other two laptops.

Yes, I have three laptops.

Why?

Because I’m lazy, don’t want to move laptops from room to room. So, instead, I have one on the coffee table for when I’m lounging on the couch, one in the bedroom for browsing the internet and Tik Toking when in bed, and one on the work table in the main area, attached to the printer.

So, anyway, when technician tried to blow me off/end the visit because the network was "working fine", I pointed out his conclusion wasn’t logical because it wasn’t just this laptop I was unable to connect to, but the other two as well.

"It has to be a network problem. Maybe I should disconnect altogether from the network, set it up again, but I don't know how to do that", said I.

He looked nonplussed. Didn't shrug his shoulders like oh well, but might as well have.

So assuming he just didn't want to be bothered I said perhaps the solution is to switch from his company’s internet to an internet provider that’s offered me $30 off.

Guess he didn’t want me to call the company and discontinue service because the network was in my estimation broken, with him being the technician on the call. So, without further ado, he gave me a different network. Went down to his truck, came back with a new router and all.

Surprise surprise, internet connection restored.

He looked shitfaced when it turned out it was as I’d surmised ……… the power outages had fried the network.

He also looked exhausted, because it had taken him over an hour to set up the new network.

So, anyway, I’m back up and running.

I’ve since learned, from the resident I refer to as Big Friendly Guy, that the outages fried his roomba.

While waiting for the technician, the Baker called to say the Community Room has reopened, but she and the other organizers would no longer be hosting bingo (insert happy dance here).

Reasons being she herself is ill and Red Light is moving.

The Baker said she’d been experiencing pain and tests show she has cirrhosis of the liver ………… non-alcoholic cirrohosis, because she doesn’t drink, has never touched alcohol.

I suggested it might be the result of certain medications. "That’s what my daughter thinks" said she.

As for Red Light, she wasn’t joking about getting out of here. She’s found a place (don't yet know where) and will be out by April.

It’s looking like Not Dead Nancy may also be gone, but no one know the meaning of "gone" with her ....... if she’s gone for good, like crossed over the rainbow bridge, or living with a relative or placed in a facility or temporarily gone/hospitalized and will return.

Her next-door neighbor tells me Nancy had an issue with one of her legs that caused her to be hospitalized, and that her daughters are now removing items from Nancy’s unit. Neighbor says she’s not sure if Nancy knows the daughters, who never visited or cared for Nancy when she needed help, are taking things out of the unit.

That has happened before. Shortly after I moved in, we had a resident who’d been hospitalized, returned to find her family had jumped the gun — cleared out her unit, thinking she’d not make it back from the hospital.

Unless Nancy returns, we may never find out what’s actually happened to her. She'll be another unsolved mystery, like what's happened to Greedy Grabby's husband who has not been seen for almost two years.