The Lost Weekend

Down to my last egg and needing a few other items, but not wanting to drive 15 miles to the market in the nicer area — in order to avoid mask less Wheelchair Man, I decided instead to just change my shopping hours.

The two times I ran into Wheelchair Man at the corner market, it was shortly after noon. So, I changed it up and headed out at 9:30.

I don’t usually see the world before 11:30, but found I quite liked the earlier hour.

The sun was just beginning to peep out through the clouds.

A couple days ago, I spied a crew erecting a fence across the street, indicating work was finally beginning on whatever it is being built on the lot — vacant the 9 years I’ve lived here and well before that.

Now I see they’ve wrapped some sort of canvas around the chain link fence, which has turned into an artist's dream for taggers. 

The market was fairly empty, which made for a relaxing atmosphere while I picked up the few items I needed and looked for Ginger the Elf as I did so.

Having no luck finding her, I was just about to give up — especially when I came across this sign saying the sign itself does not count as having found the elf.

Funny, huh.

A few steps further, I looked up and there Ginger was.

Wearing a mask she is.

So, the message at the market is that a cute little elf, no danger to the public, must wear a mask but Wheelchair Man is given a pass?

Making a mental note to be sure to point that out should I ever run into Wheelchair Man in the store mask less again, I reported my finding Ginger to the cashier and collected my reward.

Arriving back at the complex, I ran into Apache who tells me Handsome Man had offered his services as security, but was turned down because Community Manager said, “We don’t want anyone who’s a resident here”.

Would have been the better alternative, as the bad guys wouldn’t be able to surveil him as having a regular set time. But, with his security firm being just him, though bonded, I can see the logic of management wanting a team.

Apache also tells me we’ve lost seven residents — six died, one is moving.

None of the deaths are Covid-related, though they may be Pandemic related because — this normally being the time of year when people get depressed and fade away, the fact there was this being stuck inside, lonely, nothing to do, no place where they could go, was too much. So, they passed on due to various non-Covid related issues.

Of the six to pass, I only knew one — and her not that closely.

However, close enough to know she was a teacher at one of the local schools, but was often off work because she suffered with Sickle Cell Anemia.

I always thought Sickle Cell with a disease that plagued Black people, but she wasn’t Black.

At any rate, the disease progressed to where she needed a liver transplant but was turned down because she had Sickle Cell, and she recently passed ... from liver damage I'm guessing.

The woman who is moving is that cute 80-something that had a crush on Apache. She’s had hip surgery some time ago and evidently is not doing that well. So, she’s moving to live with family in Arizona.

Not too long ago, Twin 2 was in a magnanimous mood and said, “Mom, if you ever need to or if you get tired of living alone, you can move in with us”.

I appreciated the offer but, in my head I laughed and laughed and laughed and laughed. And thought to myself, What me … get tired of living alone.

Hopefully, nothing will happen to me, like I’ve seen it happen to others, that would put me on the path of having to live with or depend on a family member — ANY family member.

Lastly, Apache confirmed I was correct. Head Maintenance Guy (HMG) is the staff member testing positive.

Apache himself queried Community Manager directly, as to which staff member, but was told privacy issues precluded giving out that kind of information.

Apache is nobody’s fool, he said, “Well, there are only four of you. And, I see you (Community Manager), I see her (Assistant Community Manager), I see him (Assistant Maintenance Guy), I don’t see ____ (Head Maintenance Guy) and his car has been gone for days, so it’s him.

Good to know HMG is not in quarantine here on the property in his upstairs unit, but elsewhere. I do wonder, however, if this was at the request of Corporate or HMG's personal choice.

Probably Corporate, because this place turning into a Hot Spot wouldn't be a good look for them.

As for the title of this post, The Lost Weekend. That came about when my actions, over the weekend, reminded me of the actions of an actor (Ray Milland) in an old movie entitled The Lost Weekend.

Portraying a drunk having alcohol hallucinosis, he began jumping, screaming, slapping at bugs crawling all over him, the floor, the walls. Bugs that weren't there.

I found myself doing the same over the weekend, only I didn’t scream. Seeing little flying things in my line of vision, jumping thinking it was a bug when one suddenly appeared as I was needlepointing, slapping at them until something inside told me it was eye floaters.

My actions were kind of funny. I many times found myself laughing at my own darn self, but stopped the jumping, slapping at, and took it all in stride as I used eye wash and Visine, thinking that would clear it up, to no avail.

Research online suggested Lumify.

So, after the market, I popped into the drug store for a bottle, and also to pick up a cookie train kit.

Don’t know when I’ll have time to work on the train set, but I used the Lumify right away.

Believe it or not, one drop each eye and floaters were gone.

Call me weird, but watching things that weren’t there floating around in front of me was kind of interesting.