October 1st, 2021
The Phone Doesn't Ring
I am waiting. I seem to wait a lot. Waiting for something. Waiting for anything to happen. And something may happen today. A decision made. Or a decision unmade. Either way, I cannot know what happens next. What I do know is that I need to bring things with me.
So, what do I bring?
All of my useful possessions exist within arm's length. Anything beyond this length doesn't exist. Sure, I can look at things, or even ask for things out of reach, but that's not what I do. I ask for as little as possible. I do need help sometimes, but I avoid asking for it as best I can. Am I a minimalist?
Oops.. Slightly derailed here... Just spent the past hour working with my mother, trying to get her next insulin prescription order filled.
Well, the first 15 minutes were spent trying to determine which wrong button she pushed, the one that partially disabled her flip phone. And it may seem as though I'm the type of person that can figure things like that out, perhaps even quickly, but that's not the case here.
Fortunately I have the downloaded phone manual on my tablet, however, I always forget where I put the darn thing, which folder.
So mostly, her phone is currently operational now. After my fix. A simple button press. However, she still has a very old Amber Alert (emergency area wide child abduction message) stuck on her phone. And I don't know how to clear that message.
This specific alert had something to do with a father escaping from Yuma, on the run, and believed to be heading for Blythe, California with innumerable tethered toddlers in tow. But what the heck can we do, from here? That's not even our jurisdiction!
And so you know, it was all a misunderstanding.
And speaking of resting…
After all of that excitement, it seems as though I need a nap. Back to back to back phone conversations while navigating through never-ending automated button presses is extremely draining. The extra loud elevator music blaring out of my earpiece doesn't help a whole lot either. At least it's piano jazz.
Rump a dump do baba-dook
Doo dump baba dook
Baba baba dook doc dee ba
Moving Parts/Packing and Tracking
What do I take with me?
As I won't have access to a television, I'll need to bring my Amazon Fire Tablet, and my phone. I'll assume internet access is on their agenda.
What else?
Probably my three favored supplements, even though I never really take them anymore. At least, not for the most part.
A pair of shorts. A button-down shirt for easy tube feeding access. Do I need socks? I haven't worn any socks since 2014. Nor shoes. Toothbrush. Mouthwash. Tube feeding accessories. My industrial strength ear muffs. Bandanas to cover my eyes, or make me look super cool (depending upon the occasion and motivation). Two pillows.
And that's it. My life crammed into a large box. Or a trash bag.
In Stone It was Written
The call came in. I will be leaving for my new home Sunday afternoon. And I am suddenly apprehensive and nervous. But I shall be prepared as I need to be. The only terrible bad awful thing will be my initial arrival at this place. By Day Two, and after having recovered from the journey, things will be more okay.
Or perhaps my journey down the twisted stairs won't destroy me after all. I shouldn't project. Projecting is bad, unless you are running a movie theater.
I need to stay away from thoughts detailing possible worst case scenarios. If this move is going to kill me, it's going to kill me whether I am fearful or not. A self-fulfilling prophecy won't do me any good. And if I'm going to prophesize, it'll be about wonderful terrific groovy things, like me recovering from this stupid illness, relatively intact.
Take care, y'all
H
The Phone Doesn't Ring
I am waiting. I seem to wait a lot. Waiting for something. Waiting for anything to happen. And something may happen today. A decision made. Or a decision unmade. Either way, I cannot know what happens next. What I do know is that I need to bring things with me.
So, what do I bring?
All of my useful possessions exist within arm's length. Anything beyond this length doesn't exist. Sure, I can look at things, or even ask for things out of reach, but that's not what I do. I ask for as little as possible. I do need help sometimes, but I avoid asking for it as best I can. Am I a minimalist?
Oops.. Slightly derailed here... Just spent the past hour working with my mother, trying to get her next insulin prescription order filled.
Well, the first 15 minutes were spent trying to determine which wrong button she pushed, the one that partially disabled her flip phone. And it may seem as though I'm the type of person that can figure things like that out, perhaps even quickly, but that's not the case here.
Fortunately I have the downloaded phone manual on my tablet, however, I always forget where I put the darn thing, which folder.
So mostly, her phone is currently operational now. After my fix. A simple button press. However, she still has a very old Amber Alert (emergency area wide child abduction message) stuck on her phone. And I don't know how to clear that message.
This specific alert had something to do with a father escaping from Yuma, on the run, and believed to be heading for Blythe, California with innumerable tethered toddlers in tow. But what the heck can we do, from here? That's not even our jurisdiction!
And so you know, it was all a misunderstanding.
And speaking of resting…
After all of that excitement, it seems as though I need a nap. Back to back to back phone conversations while navigating through never-ending automated button presses is extremely draining. The extra loud elevator music blaring out of my earpiece doesn't help a whole lot either. At least it's piano jazz.
Rump a dump do baba-dook
Doo dump baba dook
Baba baba dook doc dee ba
Moving Parts/Packing and Tracking
What do I take with me?
As I won't have access to a television, I'll need to bring my Amazon Fire Tablet, and my phone. I'll assume internet access is on their agenda.
What else?
Probably my three favored supplements, even though I never really take them anymore. At least, not for the most part.
A pair of shorts. A button-down shirt for easy tube feeding access. Do I need socks? I haven't worn any socks since 2014. Nor shoes. Toothbrush. Mouthwash. Tube feeding accessories. My industrial strength ear muffs. Bandanas to cover my eyes, or make me look super cool (depending upon the occasion and motivation). Two pillows.
And that's it. My life crammed into a large box. Or a trash bag.
In Stone It was Written
The call came in. I will be leaving for my new home Sunday afternoon. And I am suddenly apprehensive and nervous. But I shall be prepared as I need to be. The only terrible bad awful thing will be my initial arrival at this place. By Day Two, and after having recovered from the journey, things will be more okay.
Or perhaps my journey down the twisted stairs won't destroy me after all. I shouldn't project. Projecting is bad, unless you are running a movie theater.
I need to stay away from thoughts detailing possible worst case scenarios. If this move is going to kill me, it's going to kill me whether I am fearful or not. A self-fulfilling prophecy won't do me any good. And if I'm going to prophesize, it'll be about wonderful terrific groovy things, like me recovering from this stupid illness, relatively intact.
Take care, y'all
H