Soul Tracking #10

11/7/2019

Cold enough for the wool beret....

I've had trouble shaking off the blues today.  Went to bed early last night, after finishing the newsletter and getting it queued up to mail.  Got up for a second bathroom visit around 10:50 AM, sat on the bed assessing the situation, and laid back down and within a minute was back to sleep--until noon. So that was 10 hours of sleeping.

I did my usual morning routine in the early afternoon, and rousted myself away from the computer, took a shower and got all the way dressed.  I had one package to a customer to mail, which I had intended to mail yesterday, but, as happens this time of year, I ran out of daylight. Once it gets dusk, darkness is a lot faster than in the summer.  The truck is missing a headlamp, and the other one is super dim, so driving in the dark is out. 

It was warm yesterday (64); but a hefty wind barreled in around 6 PM, blew all night at 35 MPH and scoured out all the warm air, so the high temp today was only 42. So, I had to put on a coat, although it was a beautiful sunny day, it was chilly. 

I was emotionally down, sensitive to my pain levels, and once again getting worried about money.  I stayed mindful of my emotional state, watching it go from anger and frustration to neutral, to almost upbeat, and then back down again, but overall, I was feeling kind of griefy.

Writing my article and doing the podcast was intense, and although I'm happy with the result, it left me feeling out of sorts and drained.  I was digging down deep to make my points in the essay, and I think I was turning over some very old emotional rocks, exposing some shit I hadn't looked at in decades or longer.  So, that's good. I've learned to appreciate these painful but revelatory periods, despite the discomfort, because they are a portent to finding a joy space later.  It's just today was not where the space was. 

As I got out of the truck to take the package into the PO, a lady was about 15 feet in front of me, and was standing at the door holding it open for me.  A kind act, but it sure made me feel old and decrepit, as I hobbled past her, putting on smile and a thank you.  She was getting the mail from her post box, as I dropped the package at the counter, and we both were in step and once again, she held the door for me.  "You timed that well!" she exclaimed, and I retorted in a voice I didn't recognize, "We're in synch!" 

Hilbert

Tuesday afternoon I got a call from Hil--the 95 year-old gentlemen I spent a year with being his in-house caregiver.  He called ostensibly just to say hi, but the next day, I realized he was feeling me out for a favor.. I was upbeat in the conversation, and told him about my life being great, and how things had finally turned around for me.  I think he thought that meant I was making good money, because when he called again (I was on the john), he left a disturbing message about needing to borrow $548 to cover the rest of his rent due at 5 PM.

The apartment complex he lives in, in Encinitas, is one of those massive residential constructions with 100 apartments--all of which are priced sky high.  He has been living there for 32 years, and the corporation that runs the joint has been jacking up the rent mercilessly every 6 months.  He started out paying $600 for a 2-bedroom place, that now they want $2000 for. Last year when I was there he was paying $1600. This is very typical of California in general these days, but it hits people on fixed incomes particularly hard.  Although Hil gets a small stipend from the VA and the city, his social security leaves him nothing after paying his bills and food.

In his message he said that managers were being polite, but also were threatening to kick him out if he didn't pay by 5 PM.  I felt for the guy.  Shit, I've been there many times, and it ain't no fun!  I just wish I could have helped him, but I'm basically subsistence, too.  So that whole thing added to my feeling down. And when the mood is down, the pain is up, which adds to the down-ness and makes fun all that much harder to find!

I managed to royally ruin my cherished cooking pan yesterday.  It's one of those 40-dollar ceramic-coated no-stick sauce pans.  I was steaming beets and beet greens in it, and just had the burner turned up too high, so by the time I got back to it, all the water had boiled away leaving the burned beet sugar severely stuck to the non-stick surface.  I knew that about ceramic.  It does have some things that stick to it, and burned sugar is one of them.  I spent about 15 minutes trying to scour it, but succeeding in only chipping chunks of the black matter off of it, before my arms were screaming at me--another reason why I'm particularly achy today.  I'm still going to use the pan, but I'll need to plan for getting another at some point.

After I got done with the newsletter, I watched the next episode of "Bull" on CBS All Access.  I really like that show.  It's a cheerful and well-written series about a "Trial Science" firm, specializing in measuring jury responses, and using that data to fine-tune their defense strategies for their clients. It's as close to jury tampering as you can get and still be perfectly legal.  Michael Weatherly plays Jason Bull, the head honcho. We remember Weatherly from "NCIS".

I'll be heading back to DS9 tonight--it'll be a nice escape from my moodiness...