Do as I Say, Not as I Do, Part 2

So guess who came into the Laundry Room this morning, mask less, just as I was preparing to do laundry?

No, not Handsome Man — though I did run into him earlier in the week, out on the property mask less, but looking all good in shorts and tank top. It was Head Maintenance Man coming into the Laundry Room, mask less, with a load to wash.

Fortunately, I had two machines, someone had earlier started laundry in the other two machines, and there being only four, Head Maintenance Guy had to remove himself and go to the Laundry Room on the other side of the grassy knoll.

Why can that A-Hole not follow the rules?

You’d think with his going in/out of units, not know who’s an asymptomatic carrier, who is not, he’d be concerned about protecting his small children and us other seniors by wearing the damn mask.

But whatever. I had my mask on and, had he been able to stay, I’d have made sure not to let him get too close.

Avoiding the news last few days has worked in that the hurtful experiences I don’t like to remember have gone back into the vault. I am however still lurking CVM’s facebook page, just waiting for her to post something about her planning to participate in a peaceful protest in solidarity so I can call her out. She’ll immediately block me, of course, but not before I have my say and her friends get to know her as I do — a fake, fraud, hypocrite.

Talking to Next Door Neighbor, it’s confirmed that Nosey did pass away in the rehab center — not from Covid, but from natural causes.

I’d been thinking about her practically every day, last two weeks, before I saw her unit getting cleaned out and learned she’d passed away, which is beginning to worry me because, when thoughts of a particular individual keep touching me, I generally learn they’ve passed away. Like that time when my old drummer boyfriend Mike kept crossing my mind, so I googled him and learned he’d passed away. And the time I moved out of my shell and travelled to attend a nephew’s birthday party because something told me I should. He passed away before his next birthday. And there was a time, many moons ago, when a former coworker kept crossing my mind. I’d gone online trying to locate her, even left a message on a message board that if anyone knew her, bla bla bla. It wasn’t too much later when another former coworker — that didn’t know I’d been trying to reach that other former coworker, contacted ME, to ask if I’d heard the news … she’d passed away.

There have been other occasions such as these, most notably when I was at work, suddenly turned to a coworker and asked, "Can you get leave for when a brother dies?" I had no idea why I'd asked that question but, at home later that evening, I received a call my brother had been murdered.

I’m putting this out there because I’ve also been thinking about The Baker’s husband.

I don’t like this. It’s a little scary. I’m beginning to feel like the harbinger of doom.