Business as Usual

With the holidays behind us, Christmas decorations packed up and back in storage, it’s been so far so quiet and uneventful as I returned to my regularly scheduled life yesterday.

No updates from management as to Head Maintenance Guy’s status after having tested positive. His name is still listed on the Monthly Calendar so, even though I’ve only seen him walking through the walkway just the one time since, it’s looking like he’s still here and on payroll.

Also, no updates on the resident that tested positive and supposedly is in quarantine.

We still don’t know who it is, which makes us all a little suspicious of neighbors we’ve not seen around for a while.

When Next Door Neighbor (NDN) knocked on my door New Year’s Day, I saw she was on the landing, looking down, chatting with the woman who lives in the unit beneath her. NDN said the woman wanted me to stick my head out the door so she could wish me a Happy New Year.

I suspected that neighbor, having not seen me in a while, was checking to see if I was the mysterious quarantined resident.

LOL.

Especially when, after saying “Happy New Year”, with a concerned look on her face she asked, “Are you okay?”.

Bless her heart.

“So far so good” was my reply.

That neighbor still works — part time at one of the stores in the mall, and our schedules usually gel in that, when she’s on her way to work, I’m on my way to the Pain Cave.

Knowing my schedule, it must have given her pause when I took two long weekends, didn’t leave the unit, gave Trainer days off, our paths (hers and mine) did not cross.

I saw she had her grandkids with her that day, still wearing their Halloween costumes, LOL. But I knew they were downstairs before I stuck my head out the door, because I’d heard the little girl screaming, most of the day, as she played with her brothers.

Nothing was wrong. It’s just that the child is loud and noisy.

Doesn’t bother me.

I like the sound of children playing, even if, out of the three of them, the little girl is the only one to be heard.

At any rate, it’s back to business as usual with me.

I texted family to alert them to the fact I might have rare books, so don’t just willy nilly go tossing things after I’m gone. Granddaughter thought that was especially interesting and said her husband, in addition to being in the medical field and rich, has a number of qualities, skills, attributes that make him sound like Superman, also collects books and knows how to research their value.

Though my grandson-in-law does appear to be all granddaughter says he is, I am not impressed.

I’m glad she’s with someone who can take care of her because, having not a normal upbringing with her mom (Twin 1), she grew up not really able to take care of herself by herself. Always needing myself, her aunt (Twin 2), sometimes living on the kindness of school friends when her mom was off being lost in her Prodigal experience.

It’s a relief to me that granddaughter is now married, has a stable living situation, but it bothers me that she’s still dependent on others — this time her husband.

Women should have something of their own, be independent, able to support themselves, not be completely and utterly dependent on anyone.

I’ve seen what can happen.

Some of the women on skid row are there because they fled abusive situation, but had not the skills or resources to land on their feet when they fled.

The worst was a woman I years ago met who told me the story of how she'd been married a number of years, worked in the home all those years, knew how to do nothing else but care for her husband. She had children but, for one reason or another, they didn't want anything to do with her. So here she was ... her youth was gone, her beauty was gone, the years of being not all that happy in the marriage had made her dumpy looking, downtrodden, pathetic.

Once the kids were grown, out of the house, her husband decided he wanted a younger version, got himself a girlfriend, moved the girlfriend into the house, telling the wife that if she didn’t like it, she could leave.

With nothing to fall back on, last I saw, she was too weak and afraid to leave, get an attorney, sue his arse, or Betty Broderick him and his girlfriend.

My deceased ex thought he had me in that trap — what they used to call back in the day “barefoot and pregnant”. I had no job, no money and had just given birth to twin girls. He was pretty pleased with himself, thinking I had no way out, but I yet and still outwitted, outplayed and escaped when the girls were six months old, had the skills that allowed me to get a job right away and never looked back.

It would be smart for granddaughter to not just be a housewife, further locked into dependency once they have children, but to build skills and a career for herself … just in case.

So, anyway, once the pandemic ends — if it ever does end, granddaughter and her husband will free up some space for me here by taking over the containers of books. She says they have the room.

I’ll be happy to see those containers gone, in good hands, so I can move more towards my goal of minimalist living.