I Knew It!

The painters removed the orange cones and no parking signs yesterday afternoon, so the jeep is back to its regular spot.

Hopefully this means the painting project is done and over with, but as I was yesterday doubting that and wondering what fresh new hell Management was planning for us, little Knock Knock was at my door.

That’s three days in a row she knocked just to give me a hug — which is kinda nice, but kinda not; and this time, when I asked where her grandma was, she said Talker was sitting with the girls on the benches by the laundry room, discussing notices of a $94 rent increase being attached to doors.

There it is, thought I, the fresh new hell I was wondering Management would come up with.

Said notice hasn’t made it to my door yet, but there’s no doubt it’s coming and I’m suspicious of the timing.

In the long long ago time, Management would at least throw us a party, begin posting rent increase notices while we were distracted at the party. This time, notices began just as the painters were completing the upgrade on the complex, like giving us a bill for services rendered.

We didn’t ask for the upgrade, we’d rather have had a party, but it looks like we’re paying for the paint job instead.

Oh well, nothing we can do but tighten the budget belt.

In other news, Her Royal Highness — the young Black girl helping out in the office during Assistant Manager’s pregnancy leave, that managed to get on my bad side by talking to me like I was a child that needed correcting, is no longer here. She quit … supposedly because she didn’t like the drive from her home in Pomona.

The drive from here to Pomona is only 39 minutess, 33 miles, so I’m not entirely sold on her leaving because of dissatisfaction with the drive.

Last few times I caught glimpses of her, her aura looked dimmed, she seemed not so full of herself as when first arriving.

Water reaches its own level so, with her original inflated sense of self, it probably deflated her that this is not a place where she can flex, no one here to impress or seem impressed by her, so she moved on.

Whatever the reason, her highness is gone, no loss to the community.

Talker’s 40-year-old may soon be getting his walking papers. I’d previously reported Talker saying he was at the "getting on her nerves" stage. Now, she says, "I’m getting tired of teaching".

A 40-year-old isn’t all that young, should be well versed in what it takes to keep a woman’s interest, knew very well the woman he was taking on is 72-years-old so I’m not so sure how he’s failing; but it’s looking like he’ll soon be history.

Today was a Namaste Bitches kind of day.

Heading out for gas and groceries, I spied the door to the Pain Cave wide open … an invitation for me to pop in, mess with Trainer, yell "Namaste Bitches" as I walked in the door.

His wife was in the studio, gave me a big hug, said she had not been aware that the Ms. Shirley she followed on TikTok was my daughter.

She and Trainer began talking about things … good things they’d seen, read about, etc., but things I’d rather not hear or speak about because it’s still too raw, sets off the waterworks. So, I turned the conversation onto the fighters and why was the door wide open.

Trainer said he doesn’t want to change locations, but needs to upgrade the studio, so he and wife were there to figure out how to do that, make the studio less cluttered, more bougie.

Wife said she got on his case about my leaving because he kept moving me around, not paying attention to my warnings about it.

I said I was okay with it until that last move had me in a tight corner by the bathroom, that nobody puts baby in a corner.

She said she’ll try to work out a proper space for Personal Training in the new plan. I told Trainer to send me a picture when they work it out, and we’ll talk.

So, we’ll see about my returning to the Pain Cave.

My body would thank me but, with the high cost of groceries, the rent increase, and with the 15 years of distribution on my other sources of income rapidly coming to an end, I’m not so sure I can fit it in the budget.

We’ll see.

Here's Your Sign

The no parking signs appeared yesterday afternoon.

I moved the jeep to Painted Rock Lady’s carport and went on with my life.

Heading down to the Community Room this morning, to take photos of today’s craft session for the residents’ facebook page, I saw the painters power washing the carport area, with one car still parked.

Some days are better than others, and I was struggling this morning. So, thinking that car belonged to the neighbor that moved into the upstairs across the quad cursed unit, I had the urge to backtrack, walk up the stairs, alert him to move his car, but my body wasn’t up to it.

I kept going, arrived in the Community Room to find the craft today was Ceramic Tile Art.

I usually just watch the girls work, take photos, because I don’t want a collection of self-made arts and crafts thingies cluttering up my unit. However, tile art looked like something I could actually utilize … in the kitchen as a spoon et. al. holder, even though the tile is not curved for a spoon, so I joined in.

Looking at the blank tile, what came to mind was a southwest desert theme.

While some of the ladies used stencils, I freehanded and created a scene that I like; except, instead of cacti in the desert, I’m seeing more like wooden tombstones in the desert, a cemetery.

Oh well, cacti or wooden tombstones, I’m going to modge podge it and soldier on.

Here’s a pic of what we all created.

Di was in attendance and, when I asked if Kesha had helped her get her utilities turned back on, she gave me an are you serious look, said Kesha is only good for distributing potato chips (she’s not wrong), and that she herself had managed to figure it all out, paid the $1400 arrears from her savings.

Thinking if she had savings, that she must have a bank account, I suggested it might be a good idea to set up automatic payments.

She didn’t seem too keen on that, used the excuse "I don’t have a phone".

"Why don't you have a phone", asked I because people come in here and give free phones to residents …… actual free cellphones to those of extremely limited income.

"I have a phone, but it doesn't work", she countered

Truth be known, she doesn’t need a phone because, just like she went where she went, paid the $1400, she could go there, or to the bank, and set up automatic payments in person; but I didn’t pin her into a corner by saying that. I dropped suggesting anything further to prevent future problems, said no more about it, because she obviously didn't want to hear it. But I’m beginning to think the girls were right when they said, "She creates her own problems".

After the craft session, heading back to my unit, I saw the painters were hard at work on the carport, with that lone care still parked, and they’d not bothered to at least cover it.

Having had coffee and conversation with the girls, my body was now amenable to knocking on neighbor in the curse unit’s door, alerting him.

Turns out it wasn’t his car … he’d moved his car the night before, like I did and said it was probably the car belonging to the downstairs neighbor, next to where Red Light used to live.

I knocked on her door …… it was hers; she quick fast flew out of her unit to the carport, moved it.

My good deed done for the day, I ran an errand to pick up water, modge podge, dirt for the skeleton planter, and a replacement adapter for my Beats Flex Wireless Earphones, cause I somehow returned from the stay in Hollywood without the adapter.

Target is going through a massive store remodeling …… currently no gardening section for dirt, no modge podge.

I walked out with the adapter and three impulse purchases …… a pair of summer shorts and two wicker baskets.

Did not remember the water until I was halfway back home.

I hate when that happens.

Finishing Touches

Painters were here this morning putting finishing touches on my building … the last building to be painted then, after the carport where I park is done, they're gone.

The front door was finished today, which meant I could put the doormat back in place.

Repainting the patio railing was also finished, which means I can put the patio furnishings back in place, but not until the replacement fake grass patio carpet arrives … the sun/wind/rain chewed up the old one and spit it out.

Also on order is a plant that, once planted in the skeleton planter I purchased last year, will survive in the heat of the sun/wind/rain and is also good feng shui — a metal Audrey Venus Flytrap Sculpture.

I didn’t even know there was such a thing as a metal plant until, some time ago, the internet got all up in my business and offered it. Of course, I had to check the chi and learned "Metal feng shui is excellent for your patio because it brings structure, mental clarity, and calming energy to counteract the chaotic, unpredictable nature of the outdoors".

Maybe Audrey will take care of those awful looking lizards, that I'm currently having to chase off the patio with a mixture of water and hot sauce, as I read they don't like spicy stuff.

The internet is also still needlessly trying to tempt me in Shirley Tees with a twist … Shirley's Partner tees.

They're funny though.

Still nothing indicating when those of us in the remaining carport to be painted will have to move our cars, but I no longer have to head out mornings and evenings to check for the no parking sign, because Painted Rock Lady can see that carport from her unit, said she’ll call me when the signs go up and even offered her carport parking spot on the opposite side for when I have to move the jeep.

Of course I accepted, so I don’t have to spend money on a hotel stay … I’ll save it for the next paving job when everyone and their uncle has to move their cars, rather than the dozen or so now being affected, but asked, "Why are you paying for a carport spot when you don’t have a car?"

"Well, I tell the office I need it for my visiting caregiver; but actually it’s for my boyfriend", said she.

Boyfriend!?, thought I. LOL. These old ladies be getting it on.

Over the weekend, I got an update on Di’s situation …… I don’t know the details as to how it came about, but Di's utilities have been restored.

School must be out because, I’ve been seeing Crafty Lady’s two grandsons playing on the grassy lawn and, on Friday, there was a knock knock knock on the door.

Yep! Little Knock Knock is back and quickly growing out of the "little" moniker.

On Sunday, I ventured out of the area to return two of the three items I'd purchased two weeks ago at the Mall, before the return period expired and saw a Baby on Board sign that made me laugh out loud.

I also spotted two Nat C Truck parked side by side in the lot, one on which a bird had left a symbol of just what it thought of the vehicle.

Stuck in Neutral

Several things are going on, related to the painting job being done on the complex; one of which necessitates I get out of dodge for an extended period of time, because I’ll have no place to park the jeep for however many days.

Back in ’23, there was the great paving project that uprooted my parking spot for an entire week. To avoid the chaos/trauma others were experiencing in finding places to park, I booked the jeep into a car park that would only allow parking by the month @ $360.50.

Though fairly nearby, the trek back/forth wasn’t fun because the area was sketchy, inside the facility didn’t feel safe for a woman alone to be wandering around in, but I managed.

Though convenient, I really don’t want to car park again. I thought instead I’d visit Twin 2 in Murietta. However, Twin 2 tells me she not only had not gotten the guest room set up (no mattress), she hasn’t even unpacked from the move.

So that visit not working out, not wanting to book the car park, not wanting to face that harrowing drive back to the Long Beach area, book a hotel to visit the great grands for a week, I decided on a Residence Inn a few cities over, that I know to be attached to a shopping center, which will make it easier to care for my weak stomach as there’s a kitchen, cooking appliances, a refrigerator — it’s like home away from home, but with a gym and safe areas to walk.

I just returned from that road trip to Hollywood, will soon have to hit the road yet again, but I’m stuck in neutral — my now vintage Diane Von Furstenberg suitcase, that I purchased back in the 70’s when it was affordable, still out of storage ready to repack, but I can’t book the hotel until the signs go up detailing what days are involved in no parking.

I know it’s soon because notices were posted to our doors just yesterday, indicating painters were ahead of schedule, would start today on my building. In fact, the building is being power washed as we speak. However, insofar as parking, no such notices have been forthcoming.

From what I’ve seen in other areas, no parking signs just mysteriously appear; but logic tells me that if they’re starting on my building today, the parking area will be next and soon. However, without proper notification, I’m stuck in neutral … constantly having to check morning and night to see if the no parking signs have been posted, so I can make hotel reservations.

Of course this stay is going to cost more than $360, so any thoughts of helping Di out with her situation are off the table, as I’ll need to apply those $$$ to my stayaway.

I haven’t seen any of the Usual Suspects since I returned from Hollywood, probably won’t see anyone until next week, so news on Di and whether Kesha has been able to assist is not yet known by me.

Speaking of Hollywood … this was the photo I took of two dolls' star the day before Pride.

This is the photo, I saw posted to the internet, the very next day .... after the Pride Parade.

Edward Scissorhands and Other Tales

Heading to the Community Room to take photos of today’s Craft Class for the residents’ facebook page, I caught Mr. Scissorhands in the process of giving buzz cuts to the remaining greenery.

Oh Oh! He caught me taking pics

Didn’t stop me from taking more pics.

The Usual Suspects made bracelets from tongue depressors today.

Crafty Lady soaked the depressors in water, manually molded into shape and the ladies embellished with fabric and stick-on decorations.

One of these bracelets, posed atop a display in Vanity Magazine, is a tongue depressor bracelet. Can you tell which one?

Today’s tea involved one of our Usual Suspects — Di, who tells us her utilities have been cutoff because she forgot to pay, couldn’t remember last time she actually paid a utility bill, didn’t recall getting any notices warning of being $1400 in arrears and of impending cutoffs until utilities were turned off.

That got her attention.

Di is one of the residents that doesn’t make much money, pays about $150 in rent and has a hard time coming up with that. So, she’s really in a pickle, which she’s hoping Kesha can help her resolve … show her how to work out something with the utility company or put her in contact with an agency whose mission is to help seniors in situations like this.

$1400 is a lot of misremembering. I’m thinking about over a year’s worth of forgetfulness because, looking at my budget sheet, I last year paid a total of $892.89 in utilities ($491.37 to Edison Electricity and $401.52 to SoCal Gas).

So, I can’t imagine how long it took for Di to get to $1400 in arrears.

Di is easily confused and forgetful due to a brain injury suffered in an automobile accident. Before that she was a brilliant chemist and still occasionally will have moments of brilliance where she will say something that speaks of quantum physics while misremembering simple things.

I dunno. My spirit is telling me to pay the bill for her, but I myself am not rich and don’t want to step into something that might cause her to depend on me in the future.

Part of Kesha’s job is to help the seniors out by connecting them with resources for medical and rent and utilities. So, I think I’ll wait to see if Di can resolve this issue through other means before involving myself.

Accident Waiting to Happen

That’s what I said when management had the landscapers dig up all the grass, replace with rocks … that rocks would end up on the walkway and seniors would be hurt.

So far, the count is two who have had their walker tip on rocks, causing them to fall and injure themselves — one being Painted Rock Lady.

Those injured have reported the incidents to management, but not a lot can be done, at this stage, unless and until it turns into more than simple scrapes and bruises.

I remember a few years ago, when Nurse Ratched was managing the place, a resident’s foot came in contact with a spot on the walkway that was connected unevenly, she fell, broke her elbow.

She was in a cast and sling for a long while (old bones don’t heal quickly).

All I know from the outcome was that the walkway was immediately repaired and rumors began to fly that she had been drunk at the time.

I don't know if management started the rumor to save themselves or if another resident put it out there; but news of that rumor got back to the resident, who was highly indignant … complained to anyone who would listen that "I wasn't drunk", even complained to me.

I can't say whether she was drunk or not but, the fact remains, the walkway did have a raised portion, an accident waiting to happen for any one of us.

Force of habit, when I’m out and about, I always look down when walking … not so much worried about rocks, more like irresponsible dog owners allowing their dogs to No. 2 on the walkway and/or any other kind of icky stuff I’d rather not have stuck to the bottom of my shoes.

So anyway, the rocks continue to be an issue.

My area is on a slope, which means rocks roll down onto the walkway at record breaking speed, leaving bald spots where rocks are gone, exposing the plastic sheeting covering the ground.

I spotted Head Maintenance guy scooping rocks back to cover the bald spots just last week.

It probably doesn’t help that the occasional adventurous soul will attempt a shortcut across the rocks and go SPLAT! … like when 3-Year-old Great Grandbaby was here for a visit a few weeks ago.

SPLAT!

And just this morning, a delivery person managed the ascent, but went SPLAT! on the descent.

Excuse my sick sense of humor, but this one had me ROFLMAO, as I rewatch ten times.

And don't judge me for using the delivery service you see in the video. I don't agree with their business practices and the way they treat workers but, in this and outlining areas, where everything is either behind locked cabinets and/or not available at all, it's a service I of necessity must utilize.

Other than that, not a lot going on as I sit on my behind getting fat and lazy because the indoor walking pad is making a squeaking noise and it’s too hot to walk outside; but I suppose any excuse will do when one really doesn’t want to get off the couch.

Targeted

Last few days, with no prompting from myself, no search for anything with my name to cause this, I’ve been seeing t-shirts pop up in my Facebook feed … with my name.

FB is targeting me and, from the gist of what’s being said about me on the tees, seems to know me quite well.

I don’t need another t-shirt but have to admit that "It’s a Shirley Thing, You Wouldn’t Understand" is growing on me.

Crafty Lady called to say she was doing crafts today … could I come down take pics.

I could and I did. The ladies made gift bags and purses from paper bags.

The tea focused on Talker No. 2 …… the new old guy who was some kind of medical researcher, came to us from an apartment building down the street where he was exposed to black mold, says "eat organic".

If you can believe it, Talker herself says she tries to avoid him because "He’s a talker", lol.

Thing about his talking is that he talks and talks and talks, stops other residents asking, "Do you have a minute" to talk, but doesn’t say anything … mostly repeats "eat organic/how old do I look".

It’s sad because he’s probably lonely, but Talker No. 2 has no depth, no one is finding him interesting enough to sit and chat with.

I myself make sure he’s not outside sitting on the bench before I step out, and Talker says she does the same.

I got surprised, a few days ago, when I turned the corner towards the Laundry Room, and there he was sitting on the bench outside the Laundry Room door.

Fortunately, he wasn’t interested in talking to me as he was talking to the Lady with the White Dog … or trying to, because she looked like she’d rather be anywhere other than where she was, her body language reading posed to escape from the conversation, continue walking her dog.

As I moved to open the Laundry Room door, I could hear him saying the same things he said to me about eating organic/how old do you think I am.

Woman with the White Dog gave me a pleading look, I said something about him and I being the same age, with me a few days older, and saw his energy change. He tensed up, looked exasperated.

Obviously, he did not appreciate the interruption, though Woman with the White Dog did.

She took it as an opportunity to finally back away, make herself scarce; whereupon Talker No. 2 snapped, "I was going to tell her to eat organic. I'm trying to tell as many people as possible", got up and left.

As soon as he was out of sight, Woman with the White Dog came back to chat with me, lol.

She didn’t talk about him, we talked about her latest visit to where former Next Door Neighbor is now living, her surprise that "I can’t believe you’re 82", and the complex's painting project, that the painters seemed ahead of schedule, getting close to painting her building, necessitating her removing everything from her patio.

They got to her today. So close to me, well ahead of the July 29 schedule, that I today removed patio furniture from mine as well.

Other tea in today’s crafts session was Talker’s blind date.

It was a while ago that she mentioned going on a blind date but, hearing nothing back, I’d assumed it had not gone well, she didn’t want to talk about it, so I didn’t ask.

Turns out, it worked "very well", that she’d kept quiet because she wasn’t sure how the age difference would be perceived …… He’s 40, she’s in her late 60’s or early 70’s.

I scoffed at the age difference as something to be ashamed of because in my 50’s, I dated 20 somethings …… not relationships because they could never make it that far, just went on dates with a few.

They were not honest about their age, wouldn’t tell me how old for fear I’d not take them seriously; which put me in a quandary that I solved by, when we’d go to places where they had to show ID, I’d ask the ID Checker "Is he legal?" and received assurances I wasn’t breaking any laws.

Once I asked, "Is he legal" and got "barely".

The only other problem with dating younger guys being that, after a while, they get on one’s nerves, which is why they never got even to first base …… their immaturity plays out in one way or another.

Talker says she’s experiencing that getting on the nerves a bit now, but the fun she’s having is outweighing it …… for now.

I didn’t bring it up, but I’m seeing a correlation with Talker being in a relationship with a 40-year-old and her recent injuries.

All of a sudden, she’s having back pain, hip pain, an ankle injury from "dancing" and some days is seen using a cane, sometimes two canes.

Talker’s situation is reminding me of an old joke about something killing a person, but the person going out with a smile on their face.

The Eagle Has Landed

I no longer have the second floor all to myself because the eagle has landed, furniture and all.

Hearing thumps, bumps, footsteps going up/down the stairs yesterday, I was too lazy to get off the couch, watch what was being brought in.

However, at one point, I began thinking she was probably just as curious as to what to expect from whoever was behind the door across from her, as I had been about her, so I stepped out onto the patio, saw who I assumed was her daughter bringing in plastic flowers — which is not good feng shui, but not my problem.

From the patio, I offered welcome words to the daughter, who said it’s her mother moving in, made a comment about her mom saying this is the last move she’ll ever make because, after living 34 years in wherever she’s coming from, moving is too exhausting. Mom caught up, we exchanged names, I told her she’d be happy here, and that was that.

With the preliminaries out of the way, sensing no warning bells, deciding she was dubbed White Haired Neighbor (thanks Bob for the moniker), I really wasn’t interested in anything else, went back inside to what I was doing, which was trying to talk myself unsuccessfully into heading outside, to put in some walking miles.

An hour or two later, the phone rings. It’s Talker …… "So what have you found out about your new neighbor? I see her moving in", 🤣.

"Just her name, that she seems okay, I’ll leave the rest up to you" (because Talker is like the unofficial welcome wagon … makes a point to meet everyone she sees on the property, learn their life story).

I expect the smoke signals and Indian drums have signaled the eagle has landed, that I have a new neighbor and, when caught outside, I will be given the third degree as to who what when.

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.

Worry Worry Toil and Trouble

Today’s Memorial Day BBQ went off without a hitch and was the success it usually is when it’s an event us residents set up for ourselves.

There was tons of food and about 35 residents in attendance.

I arrived early, took the table in a back corner where I could see everything, get up/down easily to take photos, and hoped I’d be mostly to myself.

Instead, I ended up feeling trapped and suffocating with too many people surrounding me, as my table filled up first.

MAGA chose to sit at my table and, for once, didn’t do or say anything that annoyed me. She performed just like a regular human, even spilled some interesting tea about residents I don’t know; information she’s gleaned from walking around with her dog, attaching herself to others like she’s been trying to do with Talker, in order to get all up in their business.

Dream Lover manned the BBQ and, when all the chicken and hotdog were done, came inside, sat first at one table then, when Lu came in later, ended up sitting next to Lu.

Lu didn’t handle him like she used to ……… hands possessively all over him. So, it wasn’t clear to me if they were just friends or back on again.

I couldn’t resist ……… at one point as I was passing that table, seeing Lu engaged in conversation with someone on the other side of her, I stopped, quickly leaned over Dream Lover, whispered in his ear "Are you two in love again?"

He shook his head a resounding "No".

I was quick, already moving to walk away when something, or someone at the table, alerted Lu to something going on between Dream Lover and I.

She quickly turned around, only saw me walking away, but I can imagine someone at the table will tell her about the whispering, and she'll wonder.

Let her wonder; I'm not worried about that, but I did do something at the BBQ that does have me worried.

Sometimes I can be abrupt to the extreme, and this was one of those times.

Crafty Lady brought her two grandsons to the BBQ.

I said before that I’m not good at guessing ages, so I can’t tell you how old the boys are, but maybe around 9 and 10.

The boys were playing games, starting with chess. I happened to be walking by when I saw they’d switched to checkers.

"I’ve not seen a checkerboard in eons", said I; whereupon, the elder boy asked, "Do you play?"

"I don’t know, it’s been a long long time, I don’t even remember how to start".

The younger said, "I’ll help you", so I sat down across from the older boy.

As the younger began instructing me on how the game is played, I looked up and found Crafty Lady removing the elder from his seat across from me, sitting her own self down to play against me.

Here’s where abrupt took over ……… "HEY! What’s going on? I’m playing with the boys. Get up. Give him his seat back".

She did, and disappeared to help with serving food to the seniors; but now I’m worried that I came across too strong, that she will have a delayed reaction, think about it and decide to be offended at the way I spoke to her, if she hasn't already.

I have no plans to apologize. I'll just worry that I did a wrong thing.

As for how the game played out, he won of course; but I had him on the ropes for a while, as the game moves began to come back to me.

I’m also worried about something else that happened today.

First was a message I received at 10:17 AM from a former co-worker friend, not in the habit of sending me messages …… "You've been on my mind all morning. Just sending you love through Instagram".

I replied, "Thanks! Insofar as I know I'm good, so don't know why you're picking me up".

She replied, "I'm not sure why either but it felt like I needed to tell you I was thinking of you. You are truly one of kind and I'm glad I know you".

I was getting eulogy vibes, pondered it for a bit, then pushed it out of my head.

THEN, at 5:24 PM, a message from Trainer arrived …… "What's up Shirley just checking in on you hope all is well".

So now I'm worried again but replied, "Still alive".

I don’t know what to make of the two telepathically picking me up. On the other hand, I do know, but ………………

Hissy Fit

Not me. I’m not the one generating hissy fit energy. It’s Head Maintenance Guy.

Returning from dropping off flyers to the Baker on Tuesday, I saw him parked in the walkway by the stairs, removing from a box on his cart a new toilet.

"I thought the vacant unit was all finished", said I. Meaning the unit vacated by Next Door Neighbor.

"It’s not for that unit", said he. "It’s for your downstairs neighbor. She’s been having trouble flushing".

My downstairs neighbor is the weird girl with the dark aura that said, when I went to introduce her to the quad five years ago, "I DON’T LIKE PEOPLE!!!" and scared me away.

Unbelievable, thought I, saying to him "She’s getting a brand-new toilet, when you wouldn’t even give me a replacement toilet seat?".

"Did you request one?", said he.

"A long time ago, I put in a workorder, showed you where the enamel was peeling off the seat, asked for a replacement, and you gave me the runaround".

That was almost two years ago, and the runaround he gave me at that time was to tell me I’d have to purchase a seat, then make a work request to have maintenance install.

I didn’t know anything about choosing a toilet seat so, though I’d given it a try …… looked online, thought about it every time I looked at the seat, I eventually just said the heck with it.

His response was to angrily say, "YOU WANT A NEW TOILET SEAT! I'VE GOT PLENTY OF THOSE IN STOCK. THEY WITHHELD MY BONUS, SO I'LL GIVE YOU WHATEVER YOU WANT".

Then he came up to my unit to check on the workorder I’d submitted LAST WEEK, about the blinds covering the patio window being stuck, not sliding open to sunlight.

Checking the track he said, "THESE BLINDS ARE SHIT! I'LL GET YOU NEW ONES; AND I DON'T LIKE THE LOOKS OF YOUR CARPET. I'LL SEE ABOUT GETTING YOU NEW CARPETS".

Head Maintenance Guy is big mad. He’s ready to give away the farm.

I declined the new carpet …… too much trouble/a headache because of moving the furniture, but he said something about "my company” being able to work around it.

"My company???"

He's got something going on outside that, he said the way it worked, was to move all the furniture from one room to another room, install carpet, then move all the furniture from that room to the newly carpet area, do that area.

Sounds like a plan, but no way will upper management allow him to hissy fit his way into new carpeting.

As for why he was denied a bonus, I’d like to know more about that but have no way to probe into it.

I saw him today when I headed out to the market. They had him putting fresh paint on the red curbs.

Seems something he should not be tasked with, and his body language read he's really not a happy man right now. His aura has dimmed.

I had an appointment with Manager this morning to help me with Rent Café all of a sudden not recognizing my password or email address.

Arriving on time, I found a "closed" notice on her door.

Before I could get pissed off, I saw the Assistant Manager in her office …… only it wasn’t the regular Assistant Manager, but a young Black girl helping out during Assistant Manager’s pregnancy leave. A young professional looking Black girl that has managed to already get on my bad side.

Why is it always my own people who disappoint me, like Kesha; piss me off, like the new (temporary) Black staffer ???

A resident was exiting after just having submitted a workorder with this new staffer. She didn't look happy, but stopped to look at me, said, "Your face is so pretty".

I can’t for the life of me recall how a conversation started but, during the brief conversation, I learned she's lived here three years and angrily spat out "and I’m looking to move".

"Tread carefully", said I. "Think about it because I’ve been here fourteen years and this is good …… considering. We’ve had some really rough patches here, gone through hell, but right now is good, as many have learned because they leave and come back.

"They come back???" said she looking very interested, "And you’ve lived here for 14 years??? Maybe I should think about it. We need to talk".

Turns out she lives upstairs, around the corner in my building, but I’ll never visit to get into what her actual issue is that makes her want to move. Instead, I invited her to tomorrow’s Memorial Day BBQ.

Our conversation over, I go into the office, run my Rent Café issue by Temporary Assistant Manager Nicole.

Again, I don’t know how a conversation started but, while resolving the Rent Café issue, I mentioned Head Maintenance Guy had looked at the blinds, said they needed to be replaced.

"We don’t like the guys being interfered with and bothered while they are out on the property handling other workorders", said she seeming to come from a lofty place.

In my head I was thinking …… Bitch! How dare you chastise me like I’m a child.

What I actually said was, "I wasn’t annoying or bothering him. He had a workorder. Was in my area doing something downstairs and came upstairs to see what the actual issue was".

She just kind of smiled at me sweetly in a way that made me want to slap the black off her face; then she went into her computer and actually looked up the workorder, asked me for the specifics …… what actually was wrong with the blinds.

She didn’t need to know any of that as Head Maintenance Guy was handling it. What I think she was doing was trying to flex her power, establish superiority.

She has no idea.