Banging around: Load the breakfast dishes into the washer, feed the dog, make the bed, clean up the bathroom, rescue the dog from another choking frenzy, wonder how I can get her to a vet without my car… On and on and on.
One of the babysitters is due here pretty quick. And that, to put it mildly, is a nuisance. Of the first water!
Everybody does things a little differently. So these women come to my house and see all the weird things I do — the way I make the bed, where and how I store the dishes, how I address the week’s laundry, and on and on — and whenever what I do is different from the way they do it, they think I’m a nut case.
And so they undo everything I do and rearrange everything the way they do it.
As a professional nut case, I find this stuff beyond annoying. It’s frustrating. It’s a nuisance. It’s fukkin’ enraging!
To have a cleaning lady come in once every week or two and do everything the way she’s used to doing it: that’s fine. But every freaking day??? Not so much.
***
Ugh! Hot, gray day outside. Not raining, but humid to the point of soggy. Very uncomfortable.
As Ruby and I trot around the neighborhood each morning, we pass crews of workmen slaving away at repairing houses or building new additions. How on earth they manage to do that sweaty physical labor in this horrible, humid heat: that escapes me.
****
It’s after nine, and the babysitter hasn’t surfaced yet. Probably stuck in traffic. At least one of these women drives all the way into town from a farm community located about halfway between here and Tucson. Horrible trip! It must take her a good hour to get here. At least: by the time she hits town, she’s also hitting the worst of the rush hour.
Who knows? Maybe I chased the poor soul off with my crabby personality. I hafta say: I do rather resent having someone in my home all day, every day.
My lone-wolf temperament makes me uncomfortable with long stretches of company. An hour or so of togetherness: that’s fine. But the whole damn day? Not so much!
This morning I really should go to a grocery store. But it’s too damn hot and humid to walk there.
We do have an Uber driver living right across the street, though. I may impose on him to drive me someplace to get supplies. Later. Much later.
Actually….hmmmmmm…. I wonder if he and I could make a kind of standing appointment, whereby he would pick me up at xx time on yy day, every week (maybe even two or three times a week?) and schlep me to the stores and to appointments.
If he would do that, it would solve the transport problem. Because the Funny Farm sits on the north end of a highly commercial district, I can get to most places on foot or by lightrail. But…I ain’t fond of public transport (next time I have to put up with another sh!thead, I’m gonna murder the ba*tard!). So…if I could hire a driver to show up here at a regular time on a regular day, I could get just about everyplace I need to go (barring doctor’s and dentist’s appointments).
Gerardo the Miracle Yard Dude