Hey there kiddos:
So I've done some math, and I'm down on the year, but not too much, not that this is a sustainable business model, but we're going to make some adjustments soon.
I meant to today/tonight, but maybe I'll do tomorrow. I still want to take a walk, and clean a bit in the basement. Maria will be down there tomorrow
It's late/early and I should probably sleep, but I don't want to yet. I haven't been managing my time wonderfully. You see no matter how much paperwork I do, there's always more; I don't know why that should slow me down, but it does. Maybe I should just call it done at times.
I actually am getting better at this. I set a time to learn with the rabbi, and there are deadlines on various of the things I do. Maybe I need to put in more of the stuff I want to do in between, like walking and cleaning, and writing you, and not watching stupid movies on NetFlix (I unfortunately did this again).
In good news, I was 228.9 pounds after my row this morning. I doubt I'm that anymore. I ate fish, and potato salad, and regular salad, and then three or four eggs on Wasa crackers. The point is I've seen the south side of 230 again: I'm certain it helps that mom is not here.
And I still rue that I did not buy my truck. I need it right now, and I don't have it. And that would have been a welcome break from this, and now I'm just wasting time again on eBay and Craigs List looking for the next one. But I think if this Covid stuff goes on a bit longer, we might just find vehicle prices slacking a little more.
You know what it was: I'd already created a story around it. It was an old work truck and had evidence of that still, complete with faded signs. And I already saw myself letting it out to the film industry. It had that much character, or using it as a prop for a writing contest. It just lent itself to such thoughts. Which just goes to show that it's not the item we miss, but the story we weave around it, and that one is now another in a string of “I never blow a chance to blow a chance” stories. And that's stupid, but I don't seem to transform it, or disappear it. Maybe I should take that on.
And then there are other stories. I saw an older mail truck the other day, and it was going up an incline, and it had a forward slope on the back. It just gave it such an earnest - in a cartoon character way - feel: it was like the little engine that could kind of thing.
And that's all for now.
And don't forget that Dahlia turns 50 on the 16th.