Be Careful What You Wish For

I didn’t exactly wish, it was more like I’ve been craving more time. Time enough in a day to do all that I do — cooking, cleaning, working out, Creative Memory scrapbooking, Needlepoint, blogging, TikTok, Pokémon GO, Candy Crush. All those things and more, with time left over to read, as books are piling up.

Author Walter Mosley is coming out with a new installment of the Easy Rawlings series, which I’ve already preordered, so I do need to finish one or two of these books.

I’d have preferred more time would come in the form of days miraculously becoming longer. Instead, it's come as waking up this morning to the cable box malfunctioning. It won’t connect to the source, says I need Internet to view TV, which I do have internet because here I am blogging over the Internet.

So, anyway, a call to the provider for a technician to come out turned into the same old same old of them trying to get me to fix it myself … questions, answers, disconnect this, wait, reconnect that, so on and so forth.

All I wanted was a technician, so when questions continued, and it got to "Can you tell me which HDMI channel you are on" is when I had to use my tried-and-true ace — the Age Card.

Playing the helpless little old lady, I replied, "No, I can't. I’m 80 years old. Hardly know which planet I’m on. Can you please just set up someone to come out".

Worked, like a charm ... always does.

Questions and instructions ceased instantly.

Technician will be arriving between 11 and 12 tomorrow, which means I’ll have to give up tomorrow’s workout, but oh well. Getting the cable box up and running trumps working out.

Heading outside to pick up mail, over the wall I could see flashing lights in the area where our Outside Neighbor has been residing last few days.

I suspect it’s one of those trucks the cops show up with to haul away property belonging to the unhoused in order to get them out of the area, but since they can’t do that for the time being (which I doubt the person in the tent knows) maybe it was just an intimidation tactic or maybe, when the truck initially pulled to the curb to haul what looked like junk away, the driver hadn't initially realized there was a person inside.

At any rate, no cops showed up, I never saw the driver exit the truck, and the person in the tent didn’t seem perturbed. The truck eventually drove away.

Talking to the guy standing in the smoking section, while we both watched the goings on, without thinking he did what I assume he always does ... pulled out a cigarette, put it to his lips. Except, it was a joint.

As he went to fire up, I got ready to surreptitiously snap a photo, but he seemed to suddenly realize I wasn't of the usual gather on the lawn for a smoke type and quickly pulled it away from his lips, tried to hide it between his fingers. So, I left so the guy could enjoy his smoke.

Before he pulled out his smoke however, he'd informed me the occupant of the tent is a female.

He further said people driving by have been pulling over to the curb, dropping off containers with food, which I said was nice and that I'd thought about taking food and a warm blanket out myself, but didn't because one never knows what kind of reception one will get these days, how good deeds go bad, and one gets hurt.

He said something about my having done so would have been like feeding a cat, caused it to hang around, come back.

I dunno.

Somebody has got to do something, and it was the second time in two weeks that my heart told me to be that somebody, but my head said don't be stupid.

The other incident was when I picked up photographs from the photo lab, found someone else's photos mixed in with mine.

I didn't want to just toss them in the trash so, when I saw there was a telephone number on the summary sheet, I picked up the phone to call, see if the person wanted mailed to them.

But then, my head said I'd end up with a headache. That the person would probably think it was some kind of trick, a scam, don't get involved. So, I didn't complete the call.

My heart wouldn't let me toss the photos in the trash, so I instead drove back to the photo lab, turned the photos over knowing full well they are not going to call the person, will themselves toss in the trash but better they than I, my hands are clean.

It's a sad commentary on life when one has to harden one's heart and listen to one's head.

The guy hiding the joint also said that one day, when a group of the smokers were out on the lawn, the woman in the tent came out, walked back to the wall, and there in plain view, pulled down her pants, squatted, and did a No. 2.

Ewwwwwww.

He also pointed out areas where people have been parked, living in campers for weeks.

At least they have shelter.

Even with no TV eating up the hours, time seems to be slipping away without my having picked up one book to finish reading, and tonight will be watching the last two episodes of Fool Me Once on the phone.

The Netflix series is not as slow as I thought it would be, and nowhere near as predictable as it first seemed. So full of red herrings that I'm completely clueless as to who, what, why, but soon to find out.