Just When You Thought It Was Safe

Yesterday was my appointment with the doctor. On the way to the appointment, this happened.

That was some dangerous driving, and would have gone sideways for me, stopped at the red light, had one of those vehicles been hit by moving traffic that had the green light, causing one or more to crash into me.

I got a good look at the driver of the nazi car as he made the turn, and surprise surprise, it was a Brother, I’d say in his mid 30’s; and not a richy rich snob type Brother, but a common every day normal casual Brother, wearing a white t-shirt.

So, what was he doing driving a cybertruck?

The dangerous move was all for naught, because I knew the route the cars (looking to be a convoy of three or four), were taking would get them to where I’d soon be had they just cooled their jets, made the turn at the next intersection.

So, anyway, the doctor tells me I’m basically healthy, doing all the right things — eating healthy, exercising, but cholesterol is too high and I need to get my BP down, which was 160 when I arrived at the medical center — in spite of having taken the morning’s medication, and 163/71 after the nurse had me sit and rest for a while for a retake.

Go figure.

Doctor’s diagnosis "not diabetic, take 2 tablets for hypertension, but if BP is under 120 systolic, then take one), hydrate hydrate hydrate hydrate, lab work every six months (as they’re keeping an eye on kidneys filtrating a little slower than should)".

So, that’s that.

Today is bingo for the seniors and, after all that rigamarole over that ever-changing bingo flyer, today’s bingo is cancelled. The session scheduled for Friday the 22nd is probably also cancelled and, who knows, there may never be bingo again.

No matter to me, as I’m not involved in bingo, but a huge blow to those that are involved — organizers and participants.

As to why bingo is cancelled until further notice, I received a text from the Baker yesterday afternoon, "Someone came in the clubhouse on Tuesday with Covid, so most of us are just staying inside and testing".

F_CK!!!

I WAS IN THE COMMUNITY ROOM ON TUESDAY!!!

That was Pizza Tuesday, the morning I went down to check out the new Activity Director.

Just when you thought it was safe.

Heck, I didn’t even know Covid to be still a thing.

How are people still catching it?

Remembering how it was that Di hugged me in the Community Room that morning, and I had hugged our former Activity Director Christine, and how some of us had taken a group photo with the new Activity Director Kesha — all standing close, arms entangled, my first thought was to check on when I should begin testing. Learned that, if exposed and don’t have symptoms, wait at least 5 full days before testing but, if one develops symptoms, test immediately.

Not experiencing any symptoms, but needing to know just how worried I should be, I queried the Baker, "Was the person who brought Covid into the room someone who was in the room when I was there or came after I left" and was much relieved to find it was Dream Lover, as he was not in the room when I was there, had come later.

Fortunately, neither were Activity Director Kesha, or her new boss Christine. They headed for their cars just as I was walking out.

Unfortunately, Talker, Little Knock Knock, Lurch, Upstairs Lady, Lu, the Baker, her husband and a handful of others likely came in contact with Dream Lover.

I’m 99.99% certain I’m good but, since Dream Lover’s girlfriend Lu and best bud Upstairs Lady were in the room when I was there — even though, since I'm keeping Upstairs Lady on the does not exist list, kept my distance from her, the fact remains that both Lu and Upstairs Lady are stuck like glue to Dream Lover, so who knows which of them might have caught what. I’ll take the extra precaution of testing.

Isn’t it interesting how things sometimes turn out ……… Upstairs Lady has that little click of hers (Dream Lover, Lu, herself), a little click inside of the big click, that resulted in my moving away from the High Table at the BBQ, away from them, and now one has Covid, two are testing, all three are on lockdown.

Armageddon, Part 2

Not 10 minutes after posting yesterday about it possibly being the end of days, because I’d awaken to not knowing the cause of a power outage and the sound of sirens racing down the street, did the earth begin to move, glassware began to rattle.

It was another earthquake.

They are coming faster, closer together, but yesterday’s 3.5 did not last as long, did not cause near the same level of shaking, rattling, rolling, did not frighten me as much as last Thursday’s quake did, even though this one registered higher.

Later yesterday, I saw news on facebook, from friends that live in the area, that there had been another quake 2 hours after the earlier 3.5.

Yipes! Two in one day.

I actually did feel that second one, but took it as an aftershock, because it was so mild and so soon after the first quake.

They’re coming even faster than I could have imagined because, when I later checked online for the stats on the second quake, I learned "San Bernardino has had: (M1.5 or greater) 4 earthquakes in the past 24 hours; 17 earthquakes in the past 7 days; 52 earthquakes in the past 30 days".

GOOD LORD! WE’RE DOOMED!

Seems, even when unaware, we are living on quaking ground, still standing by the Grace of God, but for how long is anyone’s guess.

We are not the one’s causing world chaos, so why pick on us? The quakes should be happening in DC, under 1600 freaking Pennsylvania Avenue.

So anyway, power is on today, I'm hearing no sirens racing down the street, so today has thus far been okay.

In responding to Mitchell’s comment to yesterday’s post, I responded I was "taking with a grain of salt" that I’m getting signs of being appreciated. Some of you seemed to enjoy when I provide the history of old phrases … what The Misadventures of Widowhood calls "word and phase histories", so I looked this latest idiom up.

"The idiom likely originated from Pliny the Elder, who mentioned that a certain antidote was to be taken with a 'grain of salt', suggesting it should be consumed with a degree of skepticism or caution … It could also be related to the ancient belief that salt could counteract poison, implying that the information should be handled with caution".

As for Pliny the Elder, "Gaius Plinius Secundus (AD 23/24 – 79), known in English as Pliny the Elder was a Roman author, naturalist, scientist, and naval and army commander of the early Roman Empire, and a friend of the emperor Vespasian. He wrote the encyclopedic Naturalis Historia (Natural History), a comprehensive thirty-seven-volume work covering a vast array of topics on human knowledge and the natural world, which became an editorial model for encyclopedias. He spent most of his spare time studying, writing, and investigating natural and geographic phenomena in the field".

Class dismissed 🍎.

Armageddon

8:30 last night, long past visiting hours, a time when I was still dressed, makeup on, but bra off, there was a knock knock knock on the door.

No way could that possibly be Little Knock Knock that late, so I was careful.

Having seen enough crime dramas to know not to open the door, not to look through the peephole because, if it’s a trick, they can pew pew you through the eye when they see you looking through the peephole, I went to the kitchen, looked through the blinds.

It was indeed, Little KK.

I asked what she was doing out so late and, not seeing the Talker at the bottom of the stairs, became concerned that she was out by herself.

She wasn’t. Talker was chatting with neighbors at the end of the walkway and later told me Little KK said she wanted to visit her friend. "What friend", asked Talker and Litle KK said, "You know" and pointed to my unit.

Nice but, like I said, it was way past visiting hours and I was watching a Chinese Drama, so I gave Little KK a hug and sent her on her way.

I should be grateful that my beingness is attracting good signs, like Little KK of the Talker’s family knocking on my door, wanting to spend time with me, and now Aunt H — Talker’s sister, giving me a gift, but Talker has a very handsome nephew. Why not him?

Just saying.

So, anyway, waking up around 7:30 this morning, I went to turn the TV on for background noise while I performed my morning rituals, but the TV did not turn on.

I thought it might be a problem with the remote, but then noticed all the lights on the box were off.

I then thought, POWER OUTAGE.

Sure enough, the lights in the unit were off, microwave was dead, as was the A/C.

In this unbearably hot weather, this is not a convenient time for a power outage. To top it off, I kept hearing sirens racing down the street.

First the earthquake, now a power outage with the sound of sirens back-to-back racing down the street, Armageddon came to mind; and here I was with no way to determine what was going on. Was there a fire on Little Mountain again, did Donnie Two Doll push the button and we are now under attack, do I shelter in place or evacuate? What to do?

There’s always that annoying announcement popping up on TV instructing that "in case of an emergency bla bla bla", but I guess they didn’t consider that source of information doesn’t work when the power is out — no TV, no way of knowing what’s going on.

I did eventually get a power outage alert on the phone — “Outage Reason: analyzing problem, Estimated Start 5:08 am, Estimated End 3:30 pm".

I began formulating a plan to survive the day. 1) I could get that banking issue off the to-do list, then hang out at Starbucks or a mall to escape the heat or 2) I could drag the portable tower fan from the bedroom, attach it to the portable solar generator I purchased when we had that weeklong outage back in January, and cool the room down to where I could work on that never ending needlepoint project.

Deciding on the former, I began preparing for outside, starting with face makeup — but it was melting from the heat as quickly as I got it on. All of a sudden, the power kicked in. It was 9:30.

Whew!

Relieved, I puttered around doing nothing of any significance until along around 11:30, when I remembered today is Pizza Tuesday and the advent of a new Activity Director. So, I headed for the Community Room.

First person to greet me as I entered the room was Upstairs Lady who, you might recall, is invisible to me, no longer exists in my awareness. So, I made a point not to see her, not to hear her greeting and, during the time I was in the room, when she pushed her walker anywhere near to where I was, I moved to the opposite side of the room.

Was that unforgiving of me, childish, petty?

Yes.

And?

The new hire, named Kesha, seems nice; and the name "Kesha" tells you all you need to know about her culture, which we don’t see a lot of in this Corporate structure.

In fact, in all my years here, I’ve only seen two. One was a maintenance man here, who got pushed out by that mean Nurse Ratched when she was managing the complex. The other was a big shot from Corporate, who’d come down, do inspections from time to time. I don’t know how she got to be a big shot in this Corporate structure, but she did, until she too one day suddenly was no longer an employee.

I’m hoping Kesha can survive, hang with whatever, stick with us for a while.

While us Usual Suspects were welcoming Kesha, the woman (Christine) who was our popular Activity Director two/three years ago walked through the doors.

Surprised to see her, I gave her a big hug, asked which complex she was working at, to which she replied, "I’m a supervisor now".

"WHAT?! … You’re Kesha’s boss? … The HBIC?"

She laughed, answered,"Yes".

Now knowing Christine is the "new boss" that our last Activity Director accused of treating her so badly that she quit, I'm thinking there's a lot more to that story about the "new boss" being mean to her.

Christine had her moments when she served here as Activity Director, but nothing we couldn't roll with … snapped once when she felt infringred upon that seniors, thinking they were helping, distributed pizzas before she was ready, didn't take any crap when having to deal with seniors that tried to jump the line, take more than their share, didn't think they needed to follow the rules, but was otherwise good to us, well liked.

The Activity Director that quit must have had underlining issues … couldn't handle Christine strong nature, was maybe a little princess that was accustomed to being handled with kid gloves, had a problem with Christine on a personal level, or a problem with authority in general.

As for why Christine was here, she came to support Kesha — make sure Kesha was received well by us (she was) and generally just pave the way for a smooth transition.

Little Knock Knock made an appearance in the room. She’s going back to San Diego for school tomorrow.

Feeling bad for brushing her off last night, I drove to Starbucks, picked up two cake pops for her.

I'd better turn off all the lights in my unit tonight, and make myself scarce tomorrow, just in case Little KK gets to thinking of making a farewell stop by my unit.

Before heading back upstairs, I received another gift — a Mary Kay makeup/mirror case from the new resident Jo, who sometimes spearheads craft sessions for us.

I also was approached by Di (Apache’s old friend, the resident that had been involved with Meat Man’s son — he in his mid to late 20’s, she her 60’s), who said "We’ve never been close friends, but I’ve watched you for years" and something to the effect that she "can see" and could tell I’ve gone through a lot in life, has observed my strength, my kindness, generosity, yada yada yada, that I'm not doing high school like many others are, that some of us are meant to be students, others teachers, some to serve as examples, that she sees me in the example category, has so much respect for me, that I "shine".

Well, damn!

Knock Knock, Aunt H, the gifts, Di’s comments to me, Twin 1 continuing to call to make sure I’m still alive (LOL), it's getting to be a lot.

Are these signs I’m not long for this world?

I see the doctor on Thursday, so I’m prepared, won’t be surprise if she has something serious to tell me.

Gift Horse

I heard through the grapevine that, even though Activity Director quit last week, tomorrow’s Pizza Tuesday is still a thing because a new Activity Director has been hired.

That was quick, which makes me think Activity Director played right into her mean boss’s hands by quitting. Mean Boss probably had someone in mind she wanted in the position — a friend or acquaintance, as insecure people in management positions almost always push current staff out, build a staff around themselves that is loyal only to them, as a way of protecting their incompetence from being outed.

I may have to do a walk-through tomorrow just to get a glimpse of the new hire.

Other than that, no longer having access to the Activity Calendar, I’ve no idea what’s scheduled for the seniors this month.

Yesterday, Sunday, was laundry day. So, while in the Laundry Room, I checked the community board and saw my latest work — the flyers that annoyed me into bringing out my Anne Marie cursing side, had been published.

To avoid confusing the seniors that had already received copies of the first flyer, the Baker posted the old and the new side-by-side to make certain it was understood there’d been a change.

Good idea. No one else needs their brains to be as scrambled as mine had been in completing that simple project, and I’ll be flabbergasted if the Usual Suspects actually get up/out to play bingo 10:15 in the morning.

I myself may have to get up/out, just to peek in, see if they do.

I was looped into a text message thread yesterday, where members of the High Table are on a hunt for birthdays to celebrate — naming residents they were planning a cake party for, asking members to provide birthdays of residents that might have been missed, so they too could be celebrated.

It used to be that birthdays were celebrated by month — one cake would be brought out during the snack break at bingo, those in attendance would be asked to stand if their birthday fell within that month, the attendees would "sing" happy birthday.

Looking at the photos recently sent for me to post to the resident’s facebook page, I noticed one cake per month has morphed into elaborate individual store bought/store decorated birthday cakes for each and wondered how the group could afford it.

I’ve since learned, "Donations", but who is doing all this donating?

So, anyway, if they’d looped me into the conversation as a way of getting my name added to the birthday list, they are out of luck, as I don’t care to have my birthday celebrated around here — I think it’s embarrassing, don’t get how the seniors enjoy being made the center of attention, having their birthday put on blast in that manner, and it all feels so phoned in …… not much feeling, especially the "singing".

For instance ……

Not only does this "singing" sound more like a death knoll, phoning it in, no feeling to it at all, it seems some don’t even know birthday boy's name, LOL.

They just want cake so, no thanks. I’ve no problem in spilling my age, but my date of birth is a state secret.

Around 6 o’clock Friday night, there was a rapid knock knock knock knock on the door.

No need to ask, "who is it?". Only one person knocks like that.

With the Talker waiting at the bottom of the stairs, Little Knock Knock ran up to drop off a gift from her Aunt H — Talker’s sister that I sat with at the fateful July 4th BBQ, where we had that High Table drama.

It's nice to be thought of, but I can’t help but look this gift horse in the mouth and wonder why?

Aunt H and I only met that one time, so receiving a gift from her is a little puzzling.

The earrings are not actually my style, but I’ll of course wear them to the next patriotic themed event …… whenever that is, to make her feel the gift is appreciated should our paths cross again.

When it occurred to me that I was looking a gift horse in the mouth, I wondered where did that phrase came from?

Mr. Google says, "The saying ‘Don't look a gift horse in the mouth’ means you shouldn't be critical or ungrateful when receiving a gift or favor, even if it's not exactly what you wanted. It emphasizes the importance of appreciating the gesture and the giver's thoughtfulness, rather than focusing on the gift's perceived value or flaws".

"The idiom originates from a time when horses were commonly used and their age and health were often determined by examining their teeth. To inspect the teeth of a gift horse would be considered rude and unappreciative, implying that you are more concerned with the horse's worth than the kindness of the giver. Essentially, it's equivalent to saying ‘beggars can't be choosers’".

Wrong Day

Notices went out yesterday, to those of us who are not supported by the County that, effective September 1, rent is increased an additional $74.

That’s not too terrible awful, so no complaints from me; however, it reminded me to check my balance in the Rent Café account I’d opened separate and apart from my regular bank.

Speaking of Rent Café, thanks to my following up (with the office, who in turn followed up with Corporate) on SoCalFifi’s comment that "According to Mr. Google 'California Civil Code § 1947.3: prohibits landlords from requiring tenants to pay rent only by electronic means'", there has been no more mention of Rent Café, no more pushing the program on us, no more coming up with ways and means to force us to sign up.

Now that the office, by getting rid of the drop box to force us into Rent Café, only to find, by law, they have to accept checks, the office has essentially created more work for itself, rather than less; a cluster you know what, because of the chaos of so many bombarding the office on the 1st of the month, trying to pay rent on time to avoid being saddled with a late charge.

To alleviate the crush of residents all showing up on the same day, the office has now even had to extend the grace period to the 7th of each month before late charges begin to apply.

If, in the end, it all gets too much for the office, and they reopen the drop box, I’m cancelling Rent Café and going back to dropping off checks.

So, anyway, after checking the Rent Café account this morning, seeing the account could use an injection, I choose today to get up/out into the world of people, get it done.

Plan was to kill several birds with one stone — drive to Sprouts market for items not available locally, withdraw cash from my bank a few doors down, drive over and deposit into the Rent Café bank a few miles away, pick up cleaning products from Lowe’s in that area, treat myself to a Venti Half Caf Americano at the Starbucks in that same area, head back home.

That plan fell apart.

After loading Sprouts groceries into the car, I walked over to the bank and was greeted with a line so long that I almost couldn’t get inside the doors.

Wrong Day, I uttered out loud, as I turned around, headed back to the car.

It hadn’t occurred to me that today is Friday which, for one reason or another, is the busiest banking day.

It would have been nice to get banking off my bucket list today, not have to drive out of the area again any time soon but, so long as I get it taken care of in the next 30 days, the Rent Café account won’t run dry.

So, banking out of the plan, I headed to Lowe’s where I found Halloween, or as Debra puts it “Augtober” has begun.

After Lowe’s, it was Starbucks and then back to the complex where I get a text message from the Baker asking me to redo the flyers for August bingo, because the time is changing from 12 noon to 10:15 in the AM due to the office closing at 2:00 on both dates she’d originally had me print flyers for.

Jesus F___ing Christ!

These ever-changing flyers!

Shake, Rattle, Roll

At 9:35 this morning, as I was working on a project for the Baker, the building began to shake, the patio windows and glassware in the unit began to rattle, the couch began to roll.

I began holding onto the laptop for dear life, as the realization hit EARTHQUAKE!!!

I’ve experienced earthquakes plenty times before and, as the building actually moved (not just my building but reports are other buildings as well), this one scared me to where the blood in my body rushed to my head, leaving me even more lightheaded than I’ve normally been lately. So, it had to be much stronger than 3.0 reported.

On the other hand, looking at the earthquake map, the quake may have felt stronger because it looks like we were in the epicenter.

Considering it’s like being in the eye of the storm, we here at the complex have been lucky — buildings still standing, insofar as I know, and only one aftershock felt by me.

Having survived this morning’s quake, I’m not so sure I’m going to survive the Baker’s latest project.

It was just last week when I’d posted she’d asked me to do flyers for a "Labor Day party on September 5 with bingo" well in advance of September’s Labor Day.

For clarification I asked, "Is it bingo or is it a party?"

"Bingo and party, we just don't want to put party on the flyer because then we will have like 60 people coming".

Still not entirely clear, but I worked it out as "Labor Day Bingo", completed and delivered flyers.

So tell me why did I get a text message from the Baker yesterday asking me to do a flyer for Labor Day.

"Didn’t we already do Labor Day?" asked I.

"Yes", but change the date from the 5th to the 8th and label it "party".

WTF?

Who’s on first?

So, as it stands today — 32 days well in advance of September 1st Labor Day, the High Table is planning a "Labor Day Party" (no mention of bingo this time) on Friday, September 5.

I have a feeling that, with so many days for the Baker to rethink the plan, today might not be the end of Labor Day flyers.

Other than that, I did learn from the Baker that the Activity Director quit her job.

Unless someone in the office does the pick-up and delivery back to the complex, or unless and until a new Activity Director is hired, that may very well be the end, after all these years, of Pizza Tuesday — free whole boxed pizzas donated to the seniors.

As for why Activity Director quit …… it has something to do with a manager. But surprise …… not our manager, the one everyone seems to dislike, but her new manager at the agency through which Corporate has contracted Activity Director's services.

Activity Director reported to the seniors that she was "having a really hard time with the new boss, and she just could not take any more how that woman was treating her", so she resigned.

Having gone through the ringer my own self while in the working world, I get it, but I personally think that, though difficult to deal with crazy bosses, quitting is not the way through.

Water Water Everywhere Nor Any Drop to Drink

Long story short, I ended up in the ER around midnight Wednesday.

After 15 minutes on the treadmill, 5 minutes on the cross trainer, an additional 10 minutes on the treadmill that morning, I pulled out the yoga mat for a cool down stretch and suddenly felt lightheaded/dizzy when I got into the downward facing dog position.

Not all that unusual. Despite staying hydrated with copious amounts of water and a little Pedialyte (which btw tastes awful), I frequently feel lightheaded these days.

So, brushing the sensation off, I lay in the corpse position —flat on my back, and relaxed until I felt good to go.

Some time during that same day, I became aware of being a little wobbly on my feet and began feeling a sharp pain radiating down my left arm.

Some days are better than others, work through it, I said to myself.

Along about bedtime, pain in the left arm now killing me, a rapid BP rise, something told me to Google "heart attack in women".

Pressure, squeezing, or fullness in the chest — NO
Pain that radiates to the arm, back, neck, or jaw — YES
Shortness of breath — YES and NO
Nausea or vomiting — NO
Fatigue — YES and NO
Dizziness or lightheadedness — YES
Sweating — NO
Indigestion — NO
Anxiety — NO
Palpitations — NOT SURE WHAT THAT WOULD FEEL LIKE

Erring on the side of caution, I called Twin 1 (who lives in the adult building next door to the complex) and, when she answered said, "Don’t panic, stay calm, I need you to come get me, take me to emergency. I think I’m showing signs of a heart attack".

I was fast tracked at the medical center and the EKG showed that, inspite of my hard as nails exterior, I do still have a heart and it was "fine".

That being the case, I was ready to head back home, but Twin 2 wheeled me into a chest x-ray ("wheeled", because BP was up to 163 by now, causing me to feel wobbly on my feet).

After that, I was wheeled over to wait for blood draw but, heart attack was my only concern, and having been told it wasn’t that, I was ready to leave.

So, against her will, I made Twin 2 drive me home, close to 2 a.m., where I went to bed knowing I wasn’t likely to die in my sleep from a heart attack, even though I still had that pain in the arm.

Twin 2 thinks it's dehydration yet again and, on Thursday, had Instacart deliver electrolyte sports drinks to my door.

Water Water Everywhere Nor Any Drop to Drink, because, not only do I not have space to store all this water but, after researching the drinks, I learned I’d be curing one problem by creating a worse one — the mother of all gut episodes, because the "natural fruit" ingredient in the 2 mango flavored Electrolit, 2 fruit punch flavored Electrolit, 4 grape flavored Powerade Zero, 7 grape flavored Powerade Zero are not fodmap safe.

Water Water Everywhere Nor Any Drop to Drink, except the 8-gallons of Pure Life distilled electrolyte is listed as safe.

Twin 2 meant well, went through quite a bit of expense, and I hate to tell her I couldn’t and didn’t drink any of the flavored ones. In fact, if she doesn’t ask, I’m not saying, but what to do with the drinks?

I texted head of the High Table — the Baker, "I’ve been gifted with quite a lot of flavored sports electrolyte drinks that my sensitive gut won’t allow me to drink. Do you think they can serve as prizes on the bingo table?"

"Yes, I bet they will love them".

Bingo is today, so I snuck them down to the bingo table just a little while ago, before the room got all peopley.

Today, I'm feeling a little tired, like I'm not getting enough sleep, which I'm probably not what with staying up late watching chinese dramas in bed on the laptop, but the pain in the arm has finally subsided, so today is business as usual.

No News is Good News

I’m still here, still alive, just quiet because there’s been nothing to blog about.

My only contact with any of the residents was Saturday, when Next Door Neighbor, having not seen nor heard me going in/out in some time, knocked on the door to see if I was okay and yesterday, when taking out the trash I ran into Little Knock Knock.

She gave me a hug and, when I asked if she was sad all her summer fun here was ending that she’d be going back to school, she uttered a woeful "yes".

Baker texted yesterday, asking me to do flyers from next month’s bingo and a flyer for a "Labor Day Party" to be disguised as "bingo" because "we don’t want to announce it to everybody".

Labor Day isn’t until Monday, September 1 and we’re still in July, so I don’t understand working so far in advance, but whatever. I’ll of course help the community by doing the flyer, but is it bingo or a party asked I.

"It’s a party, but we just don’t want to put party on the flyer because then we will have like 60 people coming".

Even though the 4th of July BBQ had been moved inside to limit attendees — exclude the homeless/random residents and was a great success (except for Upstairs Lady pissing me off) — I thought that no one, among the 50 or so attendees, that the High Table did not want to be there showed up but, evidently, I was wrong. The High Table wants to limit attendees even further, must have specific targets in mind.

I don’t know who it is they want to exclude this time (though I suspect one may be Judy), but seems to me that instead of all this subterfuge as payback for some grievance, it would be better to be up front about it ... just let the person or persons know they are not wanted and why.

I think Judy because, as previously posted, Judy pissed off the Baker in one or more of the bingo sessions and instead of speaking up for herself as I had suggested, the Baker, as usual, internalized her anger, got others involved, now she and her High Table Squad are ganging up to shut Judy out as payback for the disrespect.

Good luck with that because Judy doesn’t read the room very well or at all, wouldn’t know she’s not wanted. So, all this subterfuge is for naught. If she sees an event, Judy will barge right in.

So, anyway, not my problem. I did the subterfuge flyer.

The office will be closed Labor Day, so the High Table is planning for Friday, September 5.

I won’t be attending.

Other than that, it’s been business as usual for me — working on that never ending needlepoint project, trying to catch up on recorded TV programs, walking on the treadmill, building up my endurance on the step climber, and my latest obsession — viewing (on the laptop) Chinese Dramas with Engish translations.

In the background of a fight scene on Trainer’s Instagram, I caught a glimpse of the treadmill. He’s moved it yet again. This time it’s up front, by the entrance door, in an area that used to be where his desk was.

Not ideal as still there is no privacy, but a workable spot with a view of the outside, fighters behind rather than in front. A work out station I’d not have been as opposed to as I was to being pushed into a corner by the sink and bathroom, but too late now. I’m currently happy with the in-home set up.

The coffee bar had muffins last week — blueberries and walnut.

Rumor is there might be Strawberry Muffins this week.

Problem Solved

Insofar as I know, not a lot has been going on last few days. The heat is pretty much keeping everyone on lockdown, so not much to glimpse through the patio window and I’ve had no desire to check into the Community Room, catch up with the Usual Suspects since the BBQ.

Nor have I had the desire to pressure myself into getting out by 9 am for the Tahirobics class.

After eons of the daily grind …… up early, get myself and the twins together, drop them off at school, make it to work on time and then, after the twins were grown, on their own, myself still having to make it to a job on time until the day I was mercifully freed from the grind through retirement, I was beginning to feel resentful of having to pressure myself, in these Golden Years, into another early morning schedule — this time just to keep my body from deteriorating, stay somewhat fit.

There’s just has to be an easier way, thought I.

Researching nearby senior centers, I found no activities that made me want to drive to, engage with other people.

The gym in the strip mall next to Ralphs Market, adjacent to Starbucks, has always been a viable option. I’d looked into it years ago, before I found Trainer but, at that time, it was just opening, and it turned me off that memberships were aggressively being pushed before the gym had gotten its act together.

Now there’s a pool, exercise classes, tons of equipment.

The classes offered looked to be the same as that covered by Tahirobics — at $10 a pop as opposed to the cost of a gym membership, plus Tahirobics is medium impact, safer for my body than the high impact workouts the gym offered.

Inasmuch as the only equipment I was likely to take advantage of at the gym was the treadmill, it didn’t seem worth the expense of a membership, plus again there’s the issue of my currently not wanting to be around a lot of people, but the tour gave me an idea as to how I could safely walk and strength train, on my own time, in an atmosphere free of others.

Problem solved.

My own home gym station — air conditioned, open 24/7, a cross trainer for full body workout, a foldable portable treadmill, and there’s even a coffee bar.

So, if anyone is looking for me, you’ll find me snug as a bug in a rug, working out in my in-home bunker unless and until people no longer so easily get on my last nerve, and it's safe to once check in on Community Room activities, engage with the outside world.

In other news …… not my creations, but good on those who created.

One Day at a Time

Getting up and out in time to catch the 9 o’clock Tahirobics class is proving to be even more challenging than anticipated.

Up generally around 6:30 in the morning, I’m accustomed to putzing around, not seizing the day until 10:30/11:00, but I’ve been pushing myself to give up putzing, stick to the program, get out in time to work out.

I was on a roll in getting into the new routine, until last Tuesday when, pushing myself, head in the right space, I arrived at the nutrition center only to find the power was out due to "no payment".

A forgetful moment or not the money to pay the bill, who knows/not important, but I couldn’t get back into the right head space the remainder of that week. I never made it back to class, which meant I did no form of exercise the remainder of that week and over the weekend — five whole days.

By the time this past Monday rolled around, my body was begging for exercise so I was eager to get up/out, arrived in time for class.

Power was back on and may have been back on the afternoon of the day it went out, problem solved, but I didn’t ask.

Class was good. My fitness tracker logged 3,171 steps, 759 calories burned, and I had every intention of working out this morning — a Tuesday and Thursday workout schedule.

Didn’t happen.

I putzed around.

At this point, it’s very much looking like I’ll be taking it one day at a time and that somewhere along the line, realizing I'm having fun and seeing fitness results, a reboot of my schedule — seizing the day earlier rather than later may kick in …… for at least two days a week.

For now, no promises to myself, but maybe tomorrow.

In other news, there’s been some weird stuff going on around here. Starting with, a resident reporting seeing a guy walking around peering into parked cars.

I learned a long time ago, after several thefts from vehicle in other locations, never to leave anything out in the open in the car, to tempt criminal behavior, so this sighting was no surprise to me.

The cops were called, but never showed up.

Another resident reported seeing a guy in the back area of the complex, hiding behind one of the garages.

Was he waiting to grab some unsuspecting female resident out for a walk?

One good thing about this complex is that there are eyes everywhere. Much like I am privy to a lot of what goes on just by catching a glimpse through the patio window while sitting on the couch, so are there other residents always seeing. Not a lot is missed around here.

But wait …… there’s more.

One of the more vulnerable seniors reported, while out on a walk, a strange woman approached, tried to hit her.

It’s getting more and more unsafe on the property.

On Saturday, a few residents reported seeing a strange guy dancing at the end of the walkway. Later, Lu spotted a strange guy (don’t know if it’s the same guy) crawling on all fours, up the stairs like an animal sneaking up on its prey, towards the drug dealer’s unit.

Lu called the cops and this time they showed up in groves, along with an ambulance and a fire truck.

That’s a lot of resources for a guy who was probably simply high on something. He was laughing and talking with his rescuers, so whatever his situation was didn’t translate to needing all those resources to us onlookers.

While out and about on Wednesday, I spotted something interesting as I approached the corner of a building.

No mistaking what was parked around that corner.

I always get a kick out of seeing one of those na$i cars in the neighborhood and, surprisingly, the few I’ve seen show no signs of having been damaged.

There was no one in Starbucks that looked to be the driver of that infamous vehicle, so I assumed it belonged to someone in the dental office next door.

Had I the time, I'd have stuck around to see if the driver matched the vehicle.

Happy No Kings 2.0

If you look closely, you’ll see that’s not Little Edie but the reface version with myself playing the role of Edie.

The High Table

Yesterday’s 4th of July BBQ was a huge success but, before I go into details, let me just explain that in the world of John Wick, the term "High Table" is indicative of the organization in charge, those who set the rules and, as you read on, you’ll understand why this post is thus titled.

Also, there’s breaking news to report …… the Love Birds (Dream Lover and Lu) are back on.

I noticed on Tuesday, when updating the header from June to July on the residents’ FB page, that Lu had commented on one of the photos of Dream Lover, "My handsome man".

Gag me.

Dream Lover was once again the Grill Master at the BBQ — hamburgers/hotdogs and, when Lu arrived, he addressed her as "Hey, gorgeous" and they had a make out session …… kissed.

Gag me with a spoon.

Explanation and Breaking new out of the way ……… I arrived early, so I could capture photos of the decorations and stuff before the crowd arrived.

My little friend Knock Knock (renamed because I received a violation for the previous nomenclature as "violating guidelines") was there, helping the organizers set up.

She pretty much has been living here with us old folks until school restarts and, now at 8-years-old, has grown out of whatever obsession she previously had with me, is no longer constantly knocking on my door, but still runs up and gives me a hug when our paths cross.

Last BBQ (Memorial Day) it was the Baker’s family members who contributed time, money, energy into that event. This time it was the Talker’s family members, and they even prepared Swag bags for us attendees.

Later in the event, when swag bags were distributed, I found they contained various candies, a Popper, little Bubble maker thingie, a patriotic necklace and cute little hat.

Once residents poured in, the Community Room became packed with "preferred residents" …… those who have come to bingo, come to craft sessions, and a few newbies the organizers felt safe to invite.

You could have knocked me over with a feather, when I saw Painted Rock Lady come through the door.

I was amazed to see her because, after that last fall, when her dog pushed her out of the bed, fractured her hip for the second time, she was hospitalized and going into a rehabilitation situation had been suggested.

"Rehabilitation" generally means we’ll never see the person alive again.

Painted Rock Lady said no, that if she was to recover, she wanted to do so at home and, though she looks haggard and exhausted, she survived and was well enough to make it to the Community Room on her own with her portable breathing machine and walker, even talking about working on painting rocks again.

So, anyway, the menu consisted of hamburgers, hot dogs, all the fixings, plus potato salad, macaroni salad, baked beans, mac and cheese, cupcakes for dessert.

My "reserved" spot, at the far end of the table, was a perfect spot for eyeing the entire room, being able to stand quickly/move quickly to capture photos, but the table clearly indicated the elite ……… reserved name signs, different tablecloth than the other tables.

No matter, as I was just there to take photos for the residents’ FB page, did not intend to stay long enough to be considered a part of a click, so I had fun playing naughty with my reserved name sign — holding it up to various parts of my body, declaring them "reserved".

As I was saying, the spot was perfect …… that is until Upstairs Lady — the woman who has problems with her legs (which Twin 1, who used to work in the medical profession, tells me is Lymphedema) showed up.

Upstairs Lady made it to the table on her walker, began approaching the end of the table where I was seated, pausing along the way to pick up certain reserved name signs.

Once she made it to the end of the table to where I was seated, she declared, "I’m sitting here", then began removing reserved name signs on either side of me, replacing with the ones she’d picked up along the way, saying so and so is sitting here, so and so is sitting there.

She arranged things to where Dream Lover and Lu would be seated on one side of that end table spot, and Crafty Lady (the new resident that’s running craft sessions) would be seated on the other side, thereby arranging the seating to where she’d be surrounded by her besties …… and she did all this while I was still seated in my designated spot.

So aggressive.

To top it off, midstream of what she was saying/doing, Upstairs Lady pointed to a chair towards the middle of the table saying, "You can sit there".

Ordinarily, I would have calmly said something to Upstairs Lady like I once had to say to a coworker who thought she was the boss of me, that "We are not still living on the plantation". Then I would have removed the name signs from Upstairs Lady’s hand, replaced them where they’d been, essentially telling Upstairs Lady in no uncertain terms to go F herself.

But for some strange reason I didn’t.

Like I walked out of bingo, never to return because others were getting on my last nerves with their inability to follow rules, I might have even picked up my reserved name sign and walked out of the event, taking no photos, which would have gotten Upstairs Lady in deep do do with the Baker and Talker.

But I didn’t.

Don’t ask me why I didn’t put Upstairs Lady in her place or cause her to suffer consequences of her actions. I just didn’t.

Instead, it was like I went into an altered state where time stood still.

I was not conscious of thinking anything as Upstairs Lady hoovered over me, rudely designating who was to sit where, except that as her voice began to fade further and further away from my awareness, I found myself picking up my reserved name sign, moving to the end of the next table over, which gave me the same vantage point to take photos and didn’t feel like I was involved in a click.

After that, there was no thoughts of Upstairs Lady. Even though she was seated at the end table right next to where I was seated. I didn’t hear her voice, she did not appear in my peripheral vision, she was just no longer a part of my reality. It was like Upstairs Lady disappeared from the face of the earth.

I was later joined at the table by one of the Talker’s sisters, who asked if I minded if other relatives joined us.

"Of course not", said I, and the table filled with residents and various family members of Talker.

When Talker saw I was not seated in the designated spot, she came over, pointed to where I was to have sat said, "I reserved a spot for you over there".

"She (pointing at Upstairs Lady) wanted to sit there", said I.

Talker looked confused when she looked over, saw Upstairs Lady sitting there, but suggested I move to one of the middle spots at that table.

I was fine where I was, so I declined.

At one point, Trash Tosser (the resident who threw her trash in front of Dream Lover’s door) walked in, sat down in an empty chair middle of the organizer’s table.

She didn’t know she was not to sit at that table, I guess didn't notice the reserved name signs. She just saw people she knew, an empty chair, sat down.

I watched, waited to see how long it would before she would be asked to move, but before that happened, she got up, moved to the last open spot at my table, next to Talker’s sister, and said something about that table, the organizers’ table, not feeling right, that our table felt to be more fun.

Interesting is it not that she felt the elitist stuffiness at that table, and was open about saying so.

I commended her on being so insightful, and said that table reminded me of the High Table in John Wick’s saga.

From there, Trash Tosser, Talker’s sister and I had fun talking about "The High Table" …… watching as unsuspecting residents made the mistake of sitting there, waited to see how long they’d remain before being asked to move or, feeling frozen out of conversations, got the message and moved on their own.

Trash Tosser has an interesting backstory. Shared that, before coming here, she was homeless. Said she has a downstairs unit because she has a physical condition that occasionally causes seizures and something about the program that got her placed here has so many rules/strings that she doesn't plan to live here long, that her goal is to one day be "free", whatever that means.

I’m guessing one of the rules is not to dump trash in front of your neighbor’s door, and no, I didn’t dare bring that up, ask why she did it, LOL.

Like I said, Upstairs Lady had ceased to exist after I got away from the High Table but, evidently, she’d not forgotten me. Maybe it was the confused look Upstairs Lady saw on Talker's face or the accusatory way I'd said "She wanted to sit there", that caused Upstairs Lady to begin to think she may have crossed a line, might be in trouble.

I wasn’t aware of Upstairs Lady looking over at me from time to time, but maybe she did after that because, at one point, she brought herself back into my awareness by interrupting my conversation with my table mates, called to me.

When I looked over to see what she wanted, she again said, "You can move" and pointed to one of the middle spots at the High Table.

I resented the intrusion, gave her a sharp "NO!", just like that — like why are you bothering me, why are you bringing yourself back into my awareness, trying to make yourself relevant, and turned back to my conversation like she wasn’t there.

If Upstairs Lady was beginning to feel guilty, or thinking she was in hot water, the way I said "NO!" was designed to not lessen that guilt or let her off the hook.

I’m hoping that she doesn’t later see me around and bring it up again, try to apologize or use her physical disability as an excuse for having wanted to sit there because, though it really didn’t matter whether I sat there or not, her self-entitlement and aggression is unforgivable.

She could have simply politely asked if I minded moving because she’d feel more comfortable in that spot, surrounded by her besties, so I’m not going to ease any guilt or worry she might be entertaining.

I’m actually not pissed off, not mad, but it’s good for her to think I might be, because Upstairs Lady needs to think about how she handled the situation, and sometimes the way to cause others to look at themselves, is to do nothing, say nothing, shut them out of one’s mind, let ‘em sweat, imagine the worst.

Towards the end of the event when things were winding down, some had finished eating and left already, I was thinking about heading back upstairs, start work on the whopping 170 photos I’d taken, the organizers were all seated at the High Table, finally having time to enjoy their own meal. Talker walked over, asked her sister to move to the High Table, next to her.

Sister got up to do that, leaned over and said to me, "I’ve been upgraded, but don’t worry, I won’t forget where I came from".

I was rolling in laughter, told her to remember John Wick, watch her back over there.

All in all, a fun time which, with interesting fodder for the blog, is why I ended up staying longer than I'd expected.