Double Trouble

Little Stalker and two of her uncles arrived yesterday, so it’s going to once again be a rough few days for our Karen character, because they’re probably here through the 4th of July — walking up/down the stairs taking stalker to the pool, walking overhead in Talker’s unit.

I wasn’t caught off guard this time, knew she was coming when, checking FB to see if Red Light had posted photos of her birthday party yet (she hasn’t), I saw Talker had posted stalker et al were on their way via the Metrolink Train.

I don’t know what time they actually arrived, but little stalker couldn’t wait to hit the pool. I saw her headed that way at 7:30 p.m.

Hopefully, she’ll be more interested in the pool than knock knock knocking on my door.

For some time I’ve been thinking about blogging about having a second stalker, but wasn’t certain that I was imagining something that was not there.

The lady who lives in the downstairs unit beneath Next Door Neighbor has lived here some 8/9 years and during that time, various relatives lived with her, but mainly and consistently living there has been her loser son.

Late 20’s early 30’s, I don’t think he works, but sense he earns money through devious means while the mom retired, got bored, started a night job as security for a delivery service.

There’s been no problems out of the son, he seems nice enough, has sometimes helped Next Door Neighbor bring groceries up the stairs, and we speak when passing.

However, it was some time last year when I began to feel the son was watching me. That it was no coincidence that he would be sitting in his car at the end of the walkway on Monday, Wednesday and Friday about the time I’d leave for the Pain Cave, car backed into the space, so he could face the walkway, probably smoking funny stuff, watching me leave.

I’d always pretend I didn’t see him, try to tell myself I was imagining his sitting there coinciding with my schedule as purely coincidental, even when he had the headlights on in an attempt to draw attention to himself, let me know he was there.

THEN, last week, as I opened the door to head for the Pain Cave, there sat the enormous box the new exercise equipment arrived in.

”I can’t deal with this heavy thing right now”, I said to myself, left it where it was, headed out.

Neighbor’s son (let’s call him Compton, because he sometimes wears a cap with that logo) must have been in their unit watching and, knowing my schedule, waited for my return, because he came out, asked if the box was mine, did I need help getting it inside.

The box was so big that I thought I was going to have to use a box cutter, cut the box up in pieces on the landing, remove the insides piece by piece. So, I absolutely did need help and was grateful for the offer, even though I thought it weird he was watching/waiting for my return.

He lifted the box like it was nothing, placed it in the hallway.

I thanked him for the assist and, on the way out, he turned and asked "What is your name?".

Hmmmmmm?

His mom knows my name, but I told him and that was that except, I felt uneasy that night. So uneasy, that I made certain the burglar bars were in place on the patio window, the front door, and my self-defense tools were readily available next to the bed that night.

When I told Trainer about neighbor’s son — the sitting in the car watching, waiting/watching for my return to ask if I needed help, then bringing the box inside, Trainer immediately said, "I think you made a mistake".

Hmmmmmm?

That’s pretty telling that Trainer felt that way, especially after I’d had that uneasy feeling.

At any rate, I’ve not seen Compton since — not in the car, but that doesn’t mean he hasn’t been watching from inside his mom’s unit.

Then, this morning, heading out to drop off the trash, check mail, there was a note attached to my door. It was from Compton ……… "HEY COULD YOU GIVE ME A CALL/TEXT!!!!" and his number.

NO, I can’t/won’t.

Whatever he wants a call/text for, thereby have access to my telephone number, I want no parts of it.

If he’s looking for a sugar momma, he already has one ……… his mom.

If he’s looking for anything else ……… Dream On.

Hopefully, my not complying with his request will put an end to his watching — I don't need another stalker, and whatever else it is he had/has in mind.

Three-Day Weekend

No workout this morning. Trainer is coaching his fighting team at an out-of-town competition, asked if I could change my workout to yesterday, Thursday.

Of course I said sure, no problem, even though it meant I had to go beast mode — back-to-back workouts ……… Wednesday and then yesterday Thursday, the benefit being a three-day weekend (Fri, Sat, Sun).

I used this extra day to head out, donate the old crock pot and air fryer to the Salvation Army Store.

I’ve never shopped Salvation Army before, always donated but needed wanted a pair of distressed denim shorts for the Summer.

What got me to wanting was running across a pair that captured my fancy at the mall a few weeks ago, when I wasn't even looking or thinking about shorts.

Madden NYC $65.00

Unwilling to pay the $65 price tag, I thought I’d check inside Salvation Army when I got around to donating those appliances, look for an old pair of jeans that I could rip/shred/cut into a facsimile of those above.

Today was that day.

Inside the Salvation Army Store was very well organized. So well organized that I walked right up on a pair of distressed denim shorts — no need to destroy a pair of jeans, and was in/out in less than 10 minutes with my $3.50 purchase.

The shorts were a little loose in the caboose, so I was going to take them in. Deciding that was too much work, I remembered how, back in the day the old folks would shrink to fit jeans by boiling. So, I boiled the shorts, then put in a hot dryer to solidify a better fit.

$3.50

Not exactly like the Madden shorts, but cute and would cost just as much as the Maddens, if not more, new, in the mall, distressed to look old.

Pretty risqué for an 80-year-old lady you might think.

I always wear leggings, no reason; but I still have nice looking legs, can get away with this.

As for what’s going on in the complex ……… nothing insofar as I know. Except, TinTin has decorated her window with more stuff.

Before

Now

What is she hiding?

There’s got to be a logical explanation for covering the window in aluminum foil, cardboard, some sort of green fabric and a stick to keep the window from being opened from the outside.

I’ve seen TinTin out and about, we say good morning to each other and she doesn’t look cra cra. But you never know.

Red Light had a birthday party at her new place on Wednesday, called to invite me.

I used my gut issues as an excuse for saying thanks but no thanks, that I wouldn’t be able to eat or drink anything.

It's nice of her to want to continue contact, but nope.

Talker went to the party. I know this because Red Light told me Talker was coming.

She didn’t name any of the other attendees, like the Baker and Homegirl.

Red Light is a prolific Facebooker, so I thought I’d see how the party went, who was in attendance, on FB but nooo. Oddly enough, she hasn’t posted a thing.

However, there was something interesting on FB.

The responses were exactly as expected.

A bucket of dog 💩.

A spinal tap.

Another kidney infection.

Being in a killer snake pit while trying to chew through my own jugular.

Cats shitting outside the litterbox. Their messes are usually easier to clean up.

I need the aliens from Independence Day movies to come like yesterday.

A tooth growing out my gooch.

Dementia man.

A poke in the eye with a sharp stick.

A root canal, my first broken bone, liver and onions, a can of olives, the 130 lbs I lost, my last job and my mother back in my life.

Water boarding.

Teeth pulled without numbing.

Hot poker in the eye.

Dull knife cutting my arm off.

Using sandpaper as toilet paper.

I’m dealing with a pretty painful bout of diverticulitis right now. I can’t walk, I’m audibly groaning and writhing in pain. This is still preferable to another Trump presidency.

A stick with branches up my peephole.

Sharpened bamboo chutes being jammed underneath my fingernails ...... and in my eyes and in my ears and up my nose ...... and having my skin peeled off while conscious.

Having my appendix removed with a rusty spoon.

Crawling through broken glass that is on fire above a pool of crocodiles.

An old and imperfect Joe Biden.

There were many more such replies, but you get the drift.

Old Habits Die Hard

Where has the time gone? We’re in the last week of June already, almost time to prepare for Halloween.

However, with no Residents’ Activity Committee — because Red Light moved away, The Baker recovering from knee surgery, no one else willing to step up and assume the responsibility of bingo and events, not to mention we can’t count on management to arrange a Costume Party, I’ll probably not be needing a cosplay outfit this year.

Registration is open for the Mission Inn 5K, but I’m not sure I should register. I may have aged out of that event — unable to handle the hills and mountains this year.

Trainer says I need more cardio outside of the Pain Cave.

Tell me something I don’t already know was my response, but I can’t motivate myself to walk ……… not around the complex, the neighborhood, the mall, anywhere outside, because outside is too peopley.

The Walking Club motivated me for a minute but, when Activity Director didn’t show up that last time, my motivation went back to sleep.

Trainer suggested walking up and down the stairs leading to my unit as good training for the 5K hills/mountains.

Not a bad idea, it’s only 18 steps, but "It’s outside where the people are" whined I and came up with a way to train inside where the A/C has the room nice and cold and there are no people ……… new equipment.

Cardio Climber Elliptical Trainer

When I was in the working world, I used my lunch hour and after work to train on the elliptical in the agency's gym, could do an entire hour no sweat.

Now I can barely eek out 2 minutes but, if I keep at it and can build up the stamina necessary to compete in the Mission Inn 5K, I’ll give that race another go.

If not, I'll close that chapter and be satisfied to be getting in extra cardio in the privacy of my own space.

As for old habits, I’m back on coffee. However, instead of a pot a day (4 cups), it’s one cup-a-day and drinking plenty of water during the day.

Speaking of water, when marketing, I generally pick up six 33.8 fl oz bottles of Smart Water @ 2 for $4.

Buying into the myth it would be more economical to purchase in bulk, I picked up a pack of six — going for $11.99, but then in my head calculated six bottles @ 2 for 4 — a total of $12.00 is less than a penny savings for having to go through the work of bringing down the dolly to load and get the pack upstairs, whereas I can easily climb the stairs with six, split up three in two separate bags.

A penny saved is a penny earned not worth the effort, so I put the pack back and purchased the usual six.

What a racket, but it gets worse ……… Smart water at the drug store is 2 for $7 and 2 for $9 at Sprouts. I’ll have to check Costco next time in the area to see if they offer a better price — single bottles and bulk.

I’m not the only one for whom old habits are dying hard. Talker tells me her downstairs neighbor, the Karen character, is at it again.

No surprise, because you might recall I’d speculated Karen would nut up over Talker having my little stalker and her entire family going up/down the stairs, heading to the pool, walking overhead on that weekend I’d blogged about their being here in force.

Sure enough, Karen accosted Talker, but not about the group, her beef was that the little stalker had awakened her at 1 or 2 a.m. by supposedly running back and forth across the room.

Talker said she told Karen that was ridiculous because little stalker and she had gone to bed at 9:30 p.m. on the night in question. Told Karen "You’re hearing things and I’m not going to go through what you put me through before", that she’ll get management and Corporate involved again and "We’ll see how that works out". Whereupon Karen had nothing else to say and walked away, because she's on the short list with management and doesn't want Corporate to have to talk to her again about complaining/harassment.

I’m proud of Talker, and told her it’s about time she took up for herself, rather than roll over, walk on eggshells, unable to enjoy her place in an effort to continuously try to please Karen.

Sunday Sermon

Full Quad

Those box cars are getting popular out here because, on the freeway, headed out to pick up the new Instant Pot yesterday, I spied another one, this one recklessly speeding by me.

If I ever see one not in motion — parked on the streets or in a shopping mall lot, I’m going to ask the owner if I can see the inside.

On the other hand, that might not be a good idea. The owner might be a psycho who, when I bend over to look inside, push me all the way in, take off and make me a missing person.

At any rate, the Instant Pot Duo was hella heavy but, with the help of training on 50 pounds, I managed to get the box into the car.

Once back at the complex, I had to go upstairs, get the stair climbing dolly and cords to strap the box to the dolly and, just as I went downstairs to retrieve the box, a huge moving van parked at the end of the walkway. There was also a woman sitting in a car with a County of San Bernardino insignia, that looked like she was monitoring furnishings sealed in plastic coming in.

I've never seen the County do that before. Whoever is being moved in must be a special case to be getting such royal treatment, thought I.

I’d seen Head Maintenance Guy earlier in the day. He’s said the unit had been rented, that someone from the outside was coming in, but he didn’t say it was to happen that very day.

It was just a few days ago that the maintenance guys began going in to cursory clean and prep for a new tenant. Since then, there's been no painting, no new carpeting, so that answers the question of when does management paint and bring in new carpet after someone moves out.

What is …… when they damn well want to.

Since I’ve seen no one looking at the unit, I’m now believing the rumor to be true that residents moving in are no longer allowed to view the unit first.

Desperate people do desperate things, and will put up with whatever to get a roof over their heads.

At any rate, the unit is rented, we once again are full up in the quad.

By the time I’d strapped the box to the dolly, made it back to the stairs, and was just about to drag it up those stairs, I looked over and saw a woman standing around, watching the movers.

"Are you my new neighbor?" asked I.

"Why yes, I am" said she.

I introduced myself, got her name, welcomed her and went about my business.

Not the testosterone we need in the quad, but first impression …… she seems okay but, inasmuch as she's being cared for by the County in such a special way, I'm on guard her okay looks might be deceiving and will not open the door if she knocks to borrow a cup of sugar.

Not young, not all that old, thin, tattoos on her arm, looks like a biker chick, a bartender in a biker bar type, and she's sure to provide blog fodder because, when I later glanced out the patio window to see how the move was going, I saw Dream Lover walking away from her unit.

OH NO! Does he know her?

Is she part of his harem and he's somewhat instrumental in getting her a unit here?

Or did he spot her moving in, saw she wasn't bad looking and took the opportunity to make his own move?

And what was he doing on this side of the property anyway, unless he was heading for the unit of his latest, the Boebert character, who lives on the back side of the unit the new neighbor is moving into?

That would be three women in the same building with some sort of connection to Dream Lover …… Boebert on the back, new neighbor on the front, our Karen character that chased after him on the side.

When I'd been talking to Head Maintenance Guy earlier, he said there had been 27 vacant units.

I see a lot of new faces, so all those Now Leasing signs plastered out front must have paid off in getting new tenants in.

HMG also said he’s leaving …… transferring to another Corporate-Owned property.

He told me which, but it went in one ear out the other, so I can’t research if it’s a newer property or not. I also didn’t ask why he’s transferring. It was all I could do just to maintain, keep a straight face, not let him see how happy it felt to know we were soon to be rid of him.

I feel sorry for the folks on the property he transfers to, because he’s a fake maintenance man, can’t fix sh!t, often makes the problem worse, and I am not alone in this assessment.

I kinda sorta unintentionally insulted him when I asked if his leaving meant his Assistant moves up to Head.

"Yes", said he.

"Good because he does great work" said I. Which statement was a bit of a slap in HMG’s face.

Completely unintentional. It just slipped out, but HMG is somewhat dense, so maybe he didn’t get the insult.

Now that the old Instant Pot is off the counter, and I no longer need the Ninja Air Fryer, because the new Instant Pot Duo is those two appliances in one, I’m left with a lot more counter space.

Before

After

I'd better hold onto the old appliances a week or so, before dropping off at Goodwill, just in case the Duo doesn't live up to expectations.

Early Bird

Out and about this morning, I caught the proverbial Early Bird.

Turns out, he really does catch the worms.

He caught quite a lot, which leads me to believe he’s feeding a family.

Juneteenth

Also known as Jubilee Day, Emancipation Day, Freedom Day, Black Independence Day, marking the end of slavery in these United States.

There’s an event going on at the college, but it’s not a parade or walking event — not a 5K, so I’m not interested in checking it out.

I’ll pay homage to the holiday by breaking out my Black History Month’s tee, wear it to this morning’s workout.

Last year, Google had a cool addictive interactive raised fists marching across the screen confetti drop doodle that had me playing with it off/on all day.

This year’s doodle is a bit of a letdown.

Such a letdown that I went into the Overview for an understanding of the doodle’s meaning.

Illustrated by an Oakland-based guest artist who said that, when making the doodle, he thought about what Freedom Day meant to him — play and fun and leisure, the opposite of oppression. "That’s what I want to showcase in this piece – the descendants of enslaved people celebrating and having fun".

Okay, but it’s still a bit of a letdown for this descendant.

It’s Only Money

That’s what I told myself when, in trying to balance my unbalance able budget, that it’s only money.

"Unbalance able" not only because I can no longer get by on all the cheap things that previously were my grocery list — like canned soup, crackers, peanut butter, ramen noodles, frozen dinners, Baker’s turkey burger and fries, Panda Express Chinese food, deli fried chicken and potato salad, but now have to purchase specific quality items (by quality, I mean expensive) and cook them myself, but also unbalance able because, last few weeks, I've had to replace kitchen appliances and this morning learned, at the dental office, I’m going to need a crown.

First to go was the standing mixer. It conked out while I was using it to massage kale.

BTW, did you know you don’t have to massage kale by hand? The paddle in the stand mixer works just as well, if not better.

After replacing the mixer, just in time to mix masa for tamales, the Instant Pot died in the middle of steaming the tamales.

At least replacing the Instant Pot with an Instant Pot Duo gives me more counter space, because I can get rid of the big air fryer taking up space as the Duo is both a crock pot and air fryer.

So now comes an expensive crown, because one of the decades old metal fillings is disintegrating.

Having seen the x-rays, I’m certain this is not a money grab on the part of the dentist, but a legitimately necessary procedure — not like the shyster dental office that took over the practice of my long-time silver-haired blue-eyed dentist Dr. McDreamy and tried to scam me into unnecessary work.

When things conk out or go wrong, it's usually in threes, so Mixer, Instant Pot, Dentist, makes for the three that should announce the end of unexpected expenditures.

That’s probably why I was spared when, on the freeway returning to the complex, two rather sizeable rock came out of nowhere, flew up from seemingly the edge of the freeway, maybe fell out of the open bed of the truck ahead of me, then BAM!!!, hit the car but did not shatter the windshield, causing yet another expenditure, but instead hit the car where I heard CLANG!!!, like metal being pounded on.

Upon inspection, once I reached the complex, I found minor paint damage — no dent, no damaged headlight.

As for the other three, it’s only money.

On second thought, additional expenditures might not be over. There's still a utility bill looming over my head — the result of running the A/C almost 24/7 to combat the excessive heat.

Father’s Day

Happy Father’s Day to all the dads out there … and the mothers pulling double duty as mom and dad.

Activity Director didn’t do anything for the fathers this year and, to tell you the truth, inasmuch as we never received an Activity Calendar, I’m beginning to wonder if we even still have an Activity Director.

I’ll have to remember to check on this.

Nevertheless, there was a luncheon on Friday for the dads.

I only know this because, returning from that morning’s workout, I spied the cute little Hispanic neighbor I took the Zumba class with and chased her down to give her the picture I’d taken of her at the class.

I located her in the Community Room, where I saw the room decorated with balloons and a gathering consisting of a few men and a lot of women.

"What’s going on?" asked I.

"Father’s Day Luncheon" someone said.

Of course I didn’t stay. However, when dropping off trash at the dumpster later that afternoon, I came upon a debriefing conversation about the event.

"How was it?" asked I.

The ladies seemed sore that "The men were served first. We didn’t get to do that for Mother’s Day. We had to stand in line".

Remembering it had been said the Mother’s Day Brunch was a drag because so many were complaining about the little sandwiches, cheese, deli meat platter, bagels, "tiny foods" served, I asked what was served to the guys.

"Pizza! They got better food than us and it was more fun than ours".

The ladies said it was more fun, the energy different because Complex Manager was absent. "Maintenance and the Assistant Manager were in charge and they seemed more relaxed because M___ (Complex Manager) wasn’t there. Everyone in the room seemed more relaxed, and at the end of pizza they made us Ice Cream Sundaes".

That says a lot about our current Complex Manager that so many, including staff, tense up around her. The main complaint I've heard is "She doesn’t do anything", but some have said she's rude and they "hate" her.

Not to discount how others feel about her, in all fairness I have to say I've not experienced that part of her and don't sense her as being that way, not like I did with that horrid Nurse Ratched. M___ promply responds to my email work orders, always smiles at and is nice to me, so I don’t have a problem with her.

However, considering all the complaints I’ve heard about M___, I have to give it to her for lasting as long as she has.

I’m losing track, but as near as I can recall she’s No. 10 or 11 in a long line of managers we’ve run through since I’ve been living here.

She replaced the Tyrant who, during the Pandemic lockdown — office closed, no activities, instead of handling work orders, complained about the pretty rocks Painted Rock Lady was placing on the complex to lift everyone's spirit, took classes online, got a degree in something to do with taxes and quit for a better job.

That was in ’22, so M___ has lasted 2 years.

Curious that neither she nor Activity Director hosted the Father’s Day Luncheon. Perhaps the two of them are out there making plans to move on, blow this joint.

"Out, Damned Spot"

It’s looking like we’ll soon be getting a new resident in the quad because, yesterday and this morning, I saw the maintenance guys going in/out of Red Light’s vacant unit.

Cleaning I assume.

What remains to be seen is if paint and new carpeting follows.

As near as I can figure, the unit became vacant in June of 2020, when the resident going by the handle of Nosey on the blog was sent to rehab after a second fall and never made it back.

As an aside, my use of the pseudonym "Nosey" was not to disparage that neighbor. She was a perfectly sweet lady, but I call 'em as I see 'em and with her blinds positioned for her to see what was going on outside without leaving the couch (much like my own, LOL), watching everything that goes on, her getting up, rushing to her patio to eavesdrop on conversations if she heard talking going on outside (which I don't do), what else could I lovingly name her but Nosey.

At any rate, that means Red Light moved in shortly after June 2020, moved out last month, occupied the unit some 4 years.

I don’t know if there’s a law that says a landlord must paint and install new carpeting after a unit becomes vacant before someone else moves in, but it can’t be too much work prepping for another tenant as Red Light didn’t smoke, had no pet, so maybe painting and new carpeting will be replaced with washing the walls and running a carpet cleaner.

We’ll see.

Also remaining to be seen is whether the new resident will come to us from outside or from within the complex, as those who can no longer handle stairs, have been requesting downstairs units.

I fear the level of cleaning won’t be as thorough if it’s a transfer. That management will do the basics and say here you go, take it or leave it.

BTW, why is the responsibility of the maintenance guys to do the cleaning, rather than management engaging a cleaning crew?

I seriously doubt the guys can or will do as good a job of cleaning as professional cleaners.

Speaking of cleaning, over the years, I’ve tried every product known to mankind to clean the kitchen tiles. I’ve got down on my hands and knees to scrub troubling areas, used various hacks suggested by commenters — like a combination of vinegar with Dawn, Bar Keeper’s Friend, straight up vinegar left for an hour or so, Clorox blue gel toilet bowl cleaner as suggested by my former dermatologist’s assistant, Tik Tok’s suggestion to scrub with a degreaser to remove the buildup, et. al., and still the tile ends up clean but with spots that look like dirt.

I’ve given up and pivoted to another solution to my Lady Macbeth's lament to out the damned spot(s) …… a non-slip kitchen rug.

I made a mistake with the first rug by ordering one I thought would closely match the dish drying mat.

Nice, does the job, but not really my aesthetics; so, gave it away and replaced with one that is more like me — rustic.

No more worrying about scrubbing the kitchen tile, plus it feels so nice and warm under my bare feet.

Only problem now is I need a drying mat that more closely matches the new kitchen flooring.

Ding Dong

Though my little stalker is still here (Is school out already for the summer?), it wasn’t she ringing the doorbell yesterday. It was Next Door Neighbor saying she’d not seen me in some time, was checking to see if I’m okay.

Nothing on my door to alert might be trouble inside, as was the case when not seeing NDN for a time, a notice on her door not removed and her car still in its stall, I began thinking of requesting a welfare check, tried successfully to reach her by phone before doing so and learned she’d been hospitalized for 22 days. She just said she’d not heard me coming in/going out and had not seen me for a while.

I’m very quiet coming in/going out and while inside. Someone I bet our Karen resident wished lived upstairs over her, rather than Talker, but to NDN I said "Monday, Wednesday, Friday" are the days I’m likely to be seen outside, and only because I have to as those are my workout days, that I prefer staying inside, A/C blasting, to escape the heat, but thanks for checking on me.

NDN lost a ton of weight during her hospital stay, and recounted how she went in because she was having intestinal pain, couldn’t keep food down which condition the doctors made worse in her hospital stay with this procedure, that procedure, tubes and intravenous feeding, at death’s doorstep as her condition worsened.

When all was said and done turns out it was a simple intestinal blockage, which she believes the doctors took 22 days to diagnose due to incompetence or in order to pad the bill. Said they’d even told her she’d not be able to care for herself again, tried to talk her into hospice care.

She’s pretty much back to her old self now — doing her own cooking, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping, dragging her grocery cart dangerously up the stairs. Her only change is the weight loss, now on blood thinners, and a newly acquired distrust of doctors.

Welcome to my world.

Added to the lithany of complaints I have about my Provider was when, two month's ago, I received a text that the doctor had ordered Lab work — blood and urine, only to arrive at the Lab to be told they have no record of urine …… this after I’d held it all morning, if you know what I mean.

So I show the Lab Tech the text message to which she replied, "Oh those are automatic. They just send those out automatically at certain intervals".

Good to know.

Fool me once.

So I shook my head in disbelief at last week's text message "You are due for labs. You may need to fast or provide a urine sample".

And what's with this "may need". Which is it? I either do need to fast and provide urine, or I don’t.

After recently fooling me once, I’m taking this attempt to fool me twice as yet another auto text, not actually orders from the doctor who doesn’t even know if I’m still alive.

If by chance it’s not a robo message, that would make the doctor look even more incompetent because, if she’d looked at my chart/medical history, she’d know I just had all that stuff done in the E.R. when I had that dehydration episode.

Doctors no longer care about us as individuals. They just spout the same old same old — eat right, exercise, then send us the bill, as was Trainer’s experience when he recently went in for a checkup, at his wife's insistence.

Trainer said his doctor walked into the room without acknowledging him. No good morning, no eye contact, she just sat down, looked at his chart, made assumptions from what was on the chart, told him he should get some exercise in, start walking a couple times a week.

"Does that mean I should stop running and start walking?" asked he.

This doctor looked up at that, saw how fit and muscular he was, and it was "Oh!".

He’s now looking to switch doctors. Good luck to that, said it. It’s the same everywhere.

Knockety Knock Knock

Along about 6:30 Friday evening, there was a frantic knockety knock knock, knockety knock knock, knockety knock on the door.

Upon investigation, by going to the kitchen, looking through the kitchen window, I saw my little stalker at the door, and a woman coming up the stairs behind her.

Turned out to be her mom, bearing a box of donuts.

Talker has a bakery hookup — a resident who works at one, brings pastries to Talker who, in turn, distributes amongst us residents.

Stalker’s mom said she’d been tasked with the duty of distributing the donuts and that Stalker wanted to bring some to her "friend" (me), would I like some.

Why, yes, I’d love some donuts but I can’t eat anything made with flour, said I.

So off the two go, offering donuts to residents they happen to see outside at that time.

Stalker had caught me completely off guard, by surprise.

I did not see her earlier on the property, did not hear her coming up the stairs, and the frantic knockety knock knock, knockety knock knock, knockety knock was a far cry from the usual knock knock knock, which change I attribute to a sugar high ……… too many donuts.

Stalker, her mom and two of her uncles were here all weekend. The big draw being the pool.

I was waiting for our Karen character to go postal, what with so many visitors going up/down the stairs, in/out/walking around over her head in Talker’s unit. That’s in addition to Talker herself and the brother living with her, that she’s caregiver to, that so previously angered Karen over every little thing.

I never saw Karen come outside to glare upstairs, but that doesn't mean she won't be complaining to management.

We'll see.

Fortunately, Stalker only came my way that one time on Friday. The remainder of her stay has been going to/from the pool.

On Saturday, I spotted Talker, Stalker and her mom having a little pool party with another resident, whose granddaughter was also here for the pool.

Sunday it was one of the uncles escorting Stalker to/from the pool, and today it looked like Stalker’s dad had the duty of not leaving a child unattended.

BTW, we have a new rule for the pool ……… "residents only and only two guests per resident". This two-guests rule comes just after Head Maintenance Guy had a Mother’s Day pool party.

Hmmmmmmm?????

Speaking of hmmmmmmm????? Heading to Sprouts on Saturday, the dash cam captured an interesting looking car on the freeway.

Somebody’s prepared for the Apocalypse or planning to travel safely through a hoard of zombies.

Dog Day

Not that I needed it, but I’ve confirmation the black puppy that’s in TinTin’s unit now, is not the same one that came with a sister white puppy, both passed off as Argentine pit bulls.

Heading out for this morning's workout — hands full with carrying a gym bag, water bottle, trash bag to drop off at the dumpster, taser and phone (I’m always on alert so as not to become a victim), something told me to set the phone to video, as the puppy is usually outside, being walked around the time I head out on Monday, Wednesday, Friday.

Coincidence?

I dunno.

So, anyway, I set the video — which video, because of the way I had it positioned in my hand, not wanting to look obvious about videotaping while carrying all that stuff didn’t show much other than stairs, walkway, grass, the trash bag.

Then, sure enough, I got lucky and somehow caught the moment I spotted TinTin's female "roommate" outside with the dog.

Not only is the coloration and snout indicating to me it’s not the same black puppy and I’m being lied to but, whereas the original puppy was so cute and so small that I could have held him in one hand, this puppy is older much larger.

According to TinTin’s female "roommate", the dog’s name is Chanel ……… like the perfume.

No gender confirming disrespect intended, but "Chanel" sounds like a girl’s name. The original black puppy was a male.

Sure enough, in conversation with TinTin’s female "roommate" while petting the dog — which seems to have taken to me ……… got excited last time I ran into when outside with TinTin's male "roommate" and excited this time as well upon seeing me, there was a slip of the tongue when I asked if the dog gets this excited about everyone.

The answer was "'No, she yada yada yada"'.

No question. Not the same dog. This one is female.

I hate being lied to, especially when it’s an unnecessary lie. All the male "roommate" had to say was the pure black puppy came down with parvo and passed away along with its pure white sister.

So, anyway, I edited out the beginning of the video — stairs, most of the walkway, and managed to cull photos of Chanel from the vid.