Poor Planning

Poor planning caused an early morning run to the market today.

When I hit the corner by the gas station, I saw a woman sleeping on the sidewalk.

Sadly, the unhoused, both men and women sleeping on the sidewalk is not an oddity around here and, with next month’s rent due on the 1st, if this government shutdown causes seniors here — who depend on that monthly Social Security check which might now not come in time to pay rent, and it being unlikely management will extend a grace period until the shutdown is over, checks resume, it’s likely more men and women will be sleeping on the sidewalk.

What was different about this woman was that, bless her heart, she had what looked like a little home away from home setup — shelving, a dolly, cooler, what looked to be a big can of coffee, dish soap, scrub brush, plastic cups and other miscellaneous items.

This living on the streets is a bad situation, getting worse every day, and not just around here.

Also, a bad situation is the sudden rise in the cost of gas.

This afternoon's bingo was a no-drama session.

Her Haughtiness didn't chicken out. She showed up and was much subdued after being embarrassed last week by the Chicken of Silence.

BTW, I’ve decided to rename her Boebert, because her crime was talking when she should have been quietly playing bingo.

So, anyway, she was respectful of the game, kept quiet, even when Dream Lover walked in late, sat at her table.

After we were done playing was another matter.

She and Dream Lover stayed seated long after play was over, looked to be having some interesting conversations, exchanging numbers (as she ran around looking for a pen).

Dream Lovers ex-girlfriend, now just a friend, was in the room.

I felt bad for her because it wasn’t like when Dream Lover was disinterested in our Karen character who was pursuing him, and he and ex-girlfriend could joke around about her, because it was obvious this time it was different.

The two were seriously vibing and actually looked cute together, a match.

I’d mentioned back in August that Dream Lover was acting differently towards me. I’d convinced myself it was my imagination, that I was seeing something that wasn’t there, but now that he’s vibing with Boebert, I saw what I saw — that he was indeed looking for a hookup and seems to have found one.

The problem is, Boebert hasn't been here long enough to know his history. Dream Lover is not the nice, somewhat shy gentleman he comes across as.

The tea is, he did not move in alone. He moved in with a woman who later fled to a battered woman’s shelter, never returned.

After her, it was his now ex-girlfriend who has her own unit here, didn't have to flee, but inasmuch as the two of them didn’t last long as a couple, and though they’re "just friends" now, I cannot but wonder if the breakup had something to do with the same reason the other fled.

At any rate, Boebert has best be careful.

If she too doesn't last long, we'll know why but, all in all, it's stupid to date where you live.

Today was my lucky Bingo Day. I won two games and chose a practical dish drying mat as my prize, and a blinged out coffee cup (one of Homegirl’s creations) that I gifted to a new resident that was hoping for a win so she could grab it.

Boebert doesn’t like her photo taken. Will not allow us to take it. Don’t know why. So, she's never seen in the photos we post to our residents' site.

However, looking at the photos taken this afternoon of us prize winners, I see she turned around to give me a look and thus was captured photobombing in the background.

Too bad Dream Lover had not yet arrived when this photo was taken, so you could see the two of them together. Hopefully, I’ll get a couples photo before they break up and he moves on to whoever is next.

BTW, I was wearing that Alabama Slammer folding chair shirt when I made that early morning market run. I didn’t have to worry about that hugging security guard, because he hasn’t been around since I posted that cart cam episode where he walked over to remove the cart someone left in front of the entry door.

I don’t know if he got fired for being too friendly with customers or moved to another store, but he’s been replaced by a stoic female.

Stoic that is until this morning when she saw my shirt, began cracking up, laughing out loud, walked over to tell me it was "Great!!".

I don’t have to worry about her hugging me but, for sure, she’s gonna smile every time she sees me from now on.

This time tomorrow, barring any unforeseen tire problems, I’ll be in Long Beach.

See ya on the flip side.

Everything Everywhere All at Once

Season 45 of Survivor begins tomorrow.

I’ve never missed a season, don’t plan on missing this one, but the thing is Big Brother has yet to conclude (I’m rooting for Matt to win) and Amazing Race is waiting in the wings ready to jump into the lineup.

What with Halloween Wars, the Halloween Baking Competition, Cookie Challenge, Outrageous Pumpkins, et al., it’s everything everywhere all at once.

The seniors had yet another food fest hosted by Activity Director today — a Welcome Fall Luncheon.

I wasn’t planning on attending, could not have attended even if I had wanted to because I was scheduled with Nora at 11:00.

Inasmuch as the seniors were being encouraged to "Wear your favorite football team to show who you’re rooting for this football season", had I gone, I’d have worn my Twilight Team Jacob tee, cause that’s the only team shirt I own.

Eleven o’clock with Nora almost didn’t happen.

I’m a punctual person. Actually, always early so as to not inconvenience others. So, arriving 10:50, I checked in, took a seat, and it really chapped my hide when eleven o’clock came and went.

I don’t know if the client she was working on was late, which pushed into my 11:00 but, along about 11:20, I had this urge to just get up and walk out.

Shame to do so, thought I, because I really liked the vibe of the salon, and loved this sign on the salon wall.

I knew that, had I walked out, it would be another salon I can never return to so, desperately in need of a mani/pedi, I forced myself to be patient but, making the decision to be patient only for so long, set the alarm on the phone to 11:30 and, if not called to Nora’s station when the alarm went off, I’d get up, walk out, no explanation.

She called me up at 11:28.

Happy with the work she did, the vibe of the salon, I told myself to not be so annoyed if it happened again which, looking at the popularity of the salon, it will. So, I’ll be prepared for a wait next time with a book to read, because the work she did was worth the wait.

As you can see, done waiting for October 1 — the First of Halloween to get here, I decided yesterday was close enough and put up the front door decorations, and a new header this afternoon.

I’ll probably string the candy corn lights on the patio railing before I take off for the weekend, and return on Monday with only having spider webs and Skully the skeleton to put in place.

BTW, Nori isn’t any older than the other girls in the salon. They’re all about the same age, and are Swifties — fans of Taylor.

It’s a good thing I’m a bit of a Swiftie myself because, along with my favorite country music, they played quite a lot of Taylor in the salon, while speculating she is in fact dating that football player.

All in all, looks like I’ve at last found a nail salon and no longer have to do my own mani/pedis.

The thought did occur to me that, inasmuch as I now know Nora will likely always be running late, that I should arrive late.

Thing with that is, it would be just my luck she'd be running on time the day I showed up late.

I once did just that with a hairdresser who would stay home until I arrived ... on time, have someone from the shop call her to say your client has arrived then, after having me wait, she would leave home, arrive at the shop acting all important and stuff.

Why?

I've no idea, except it pleased her to do so.

When I decided to not play this game with her again, to not book her or return to that salon in the future, I pranced myself in very late.

She was in the salon waiting and looked shitfaced when I walked in saying I was late because I knew she wouldn't be there anyway, would have made me wait.

Too stunned to react, and embarrassed — because the other stylists were smirking at her (they knew what I'd done, why, and enjoyed the drama), she nevertheless did my hair, and that was the last of us.

I bet she learned her lesson, and never tried to play that game again with another client.

Nora at 11:00

The mani/pedi I gave myself last weekend didn’t last as long as I would have liked. Probably because I tried a new product — OPI Chip Skip … a prep coat which supposedly is to prevent chipping.

It did not.

If anything, it caused last week’s polish to begin chipping sooner, the very next day in fact. So yesterday, I took the polish off, prepared to give myself a fresh mani/pedi.

But then I thought, since I’ve a road trip planned for next weekend, it would be a good idea to let the professionals do the work, so polish will last, and I can just do a touchup if needed.

Having gotten the name of the salon where the "older, short, fat one" works, I checked their work online. No names of the various stylists, but their work looked to be first class designer nails, so I suited up headed for the salon.

I almost laughed out loud at the audacity of my walking in on a Saturday (busiest day of the week for a nail salon) thinking they could fit in a simple mani/pedi, when I saw every chair, every station had a client being worked on and customers waiting their turn.

At any rate, a woman I assumed was the owner, paused her work on a customer, asked if she could help me.

"I was wondering if you had an opening for a regular mani/pedi, but I can see you’re full up", said I.

"Let me check the book" said she and, as she stood up, walked away from her customer, I quickly looked around to see if I could spot the "older, short, fat one".

Every girl working there was a cute little Size 1 so, bless her heart, standing out like a sore thumb, she was easy to spot.

She didn’t appear to be "old" per se. Just older than the other girls.

As the woman I assumed to be the owner was checking the book, to see who could fit me in that day, I said, "Do you see the girl with the flower in her hair, wearing a white blouse? She came recommended. I’d like to book with her".

Being told she was working on the last client she planned on taking that day, I booked an appointment for my next free day — Tuesday at 11:00 with Nora.

I’m not accustomed to going without polish, so I’ll be feeling conspicuous next few days, hoping no one notices my unpolished hands and toes.

It will be nice to relax in a spa chair, as next week looks to be cra cra with Friday being bingo, driving to Long Beach on Saturday to attend Sunday’s baby shower for the great granddaughter expected to arrive soon, returning on Monday, Day 2 of Halloween when I can at last begin decorating the patio.

Needless to say, I will not be working out this coming Friday or the following Monday, as I've travel prep work to do (what to eat so I won't get sick, what to wear that will piss off White Grandma) and will be driving back on Monday's workout day with Halloween decorating to be done.

As for why I want to piss off White Grandma .... she's a jealous old judgmental Karen/Boebert biddy that makes my skin crawl.

I've only met her once in person, and that was at the Thanksgiving meet and greet just after the kids were married and expecting the Great Grandson to me, Grandson to her.

White Grandpa was a delight, while White Grandma looked at me with cold dark eyes. I could tell she was upset because I didn't look like what she'd expected a Black Great Grandma to look like, while she herself, just a grandma, looked like 30 miles of dirt road.

She was oozing with jealousy and tried unsuccessfully to either impress me with talk of owning property, having tenants or tried to make me jealous she has so much and I'm poor.

She even bragged about having a quilt made for the baby.

It was just too obvious that she was disturbed and jealous of my looks and how White Grandpa and I jelled.

At any rate, that was the one and only time we've met in person and since then a sort of rivalry has developed, and I can sense her feelings.

While she was having that quilt made for the baby, I was in the process of making one, which was later presented at the baby's shower, that I did not attend.

I have it that, when White Grandma saw the quilt I'd made, she was soooo jealous that she took her's back to make it "better" and did produce a crochet quilt that, in my estimatation, was nice but still didn't match my quilt.

"I win", said I to granddaughter.

Can't wait to see what she's going to try to upstage the quilt I'm presenting at Sunday's baby shower. Maybe gift the new baby with one of her properties. LOL.

At any rate, having since learned how critical and judgmental White Grandma is of others, when I saw her pop up as following my Instagram, I blocked her arse.

Now knowing how jealous she is without reason, I want to piss White Grandma/Karen/Boebert off just because I do ..... and without even trying.

And For My Next Trick

A few days ago, Dawn the Bohemian displayed a voodoo doll in a casket on her site.

It was then I realized a casket was just what was needed for Inmate#P01135809’s voodoo doll, but the only miniature casket I could find large enough to fit his puffiness was plain, unfinished wood.

Not a problem, because it's amazing what a little leftover acrylic paint, scrapbook paper, and a fresh can of gloss sealant can do.

A-Tisket, A-Tasket, Inmate# P01135809 in a Casket.

Rest in Darkness You A-Hole

A Saturday Kind of Day

Those days I changed my schedule, got up early to prepare for inspection, were not only a waste of time but have thrown my internal clock off.

I was able to sleep in late this morning, but because my clock is off, today feels like a Saturday kind of day. I have to keep reminding myself today is not Saturday, so I won’t screw up and not show up for tomorrow’s workout.

Along about 12:30 I heard sirens outside.

Oh No, not again, thought I.

Hearing more sirens a few minutes later, that seemed to stop at the gate, I decided to get dressed, go down, investigate.

No police, no helicopter this time. Just emergency fire, behind which was an ambulance, which leads me to believe one of our seniors has had an incident.

They were packing up and leaving, someone in the ambulance by the time I arrived so, unless it’s one of The Usual Suspects, I’ll never know who what.

There was a lot of loud clanging banging going on yesterday. Stepping out onto the patio I could see the refrigerator and stove, from evicted Smoker’s unit, had been placed on the patio and there appeared to be people working inside.

For the longest time, only Assistant Maintenance Guy was working on the unit — clearing things out, painting. Now it appears new carpeting is going in.

It very much appears preparations for a new resident are on the fast track, and we'll have another new resident in the quad fairly soon.

By the way, in case you're wondering ... the resident that moved into the bad energy unit is still going strong.

Hope whoever moves into Smoker's unit is nice, because we’ve got one of the better quads — no complainers, no barking dogs, everyone gets along.

Even the weird girl who lives beneath my unit has come around.

She’s still not the friendly type, but she does smile and say "hello" when we pass on the walkway.

It only took her six years of living here to get to this point of speaking; whereas it took her no time at all to make the acquaintance of and get friendly with Big Friendly Guy — probably because he has a penis.

Seeing the Smoker’s old refrigerator and stove on the patio yesterday, I figured — cheap as management is, instead of tossing and putting in new appliances, management would put the old stuff back inside once the carpet was installed.

And so they did.

When I went out to investigate the sirens, I saw the appliances on the patio were gone and, taking a quick glance inside the unit as I passed the patio window, I could see a cleaning lady, the stove lid up, and her cleaning it.

I also saw that, instead of carpet in the front room, that unit now has dark wood flooring.

That’s interesting. The front room with wood flooring instead of carpet and, I’m assuming, carpet in the bedroom, wood flooring in the hallway and dining area.

Knowing management as I do, this move has to be a cost-effective measure. Instead of bringing in more cheap carpet, to bring in cheap wood.

Other People’s Mistakes

Monday came and went with no signs of the Inspectors. So, guessing the Great Inspection is done and over with, I'm taking my own sweet time getting myself together this morning.

Having just seen Head Maintenance Guy appearing to have taken a day off — he and his family all dressed in black as though heading to a funeral, walking down the walkway, heading to their car, for sure the Inspectors are gone and were gone after a mere three days.

These agencies are all the same ... easily fooled by the aesthetics, in and out in a flash, casework closed.

I'll have to check the Community Room later to see if the signs to not touch the refrigerator management confiscated from us are back up, LOL.

Speaking of agencies letting us down, alarming news I'm seeing is how others are being inconvenienced, lives are being destroyed because Social Security made a mistake, overpaid some for decades, and is now demanding repayment within 30 days.

Knock on wood, I've not received such a letter, but what would I do if I do receive one of those repayment letters.

Though it’s being suggested to contact the SSA, ask to have the repayment waived and/or negotiate, I have little faith in their being willing to accept responsibility for their mistake, give folks a break.

I’m reminded of the time, when employed at the law firm, and Office Manager Joe summoned me to his office to tell me the Payroll Department had made a mistake, overpaid me by $400, wanted repayment.

Not a huge sum, not a problem, so I told Joe I’d send them a check for the full amount and did.

A few days later, Joe summoned me to his office again.

The check was being returned to me.

Payroll said they "Didn’t want to do it that way". Did not want repayment in full.

What they wanted was for me to authorize them to deduct sums of money from future paychecks. Essentially, wanting me to accept a smaller paycheck over time …… however long it took for them to recoup the $400.

That sounded shady. So, though I didn’t understand the mechanics of the shadiness, I knew it would somehow help the Payroll Department fix their error, hurt me; plus, I didn’t like the idea of the Payroll Department taking money out of my paycheck that I couldn't track or trust they'd cease the deductions once the $400 treshhold had been reached, so I said NO.

There were calls back and forth between various Payroll pencil pushers to Joe, informing him I owed the money, had not paid it back.

I guess they were expecting Joe to put some kind of pressure on me, write me up, but Joe would just alert me to Payroll bugging out and that was that.

Nice guy Joe was. Always tried to be fair as he walked a fine line between satisfying the attorneys and doing right by with us secretaries.

Getting nowhere with Joe, some pencil pusher from Payroll called me directly, threatened to "go over my head".

Good luck with that, thought I. Joe was as far over my head as Payroll could go, and they'd already tried that.

This dance actually went on a couple months until one day Joe yet again summoned me to his office.

Payroll informed him my next paycheck would be $400 short as they were taking the full amount out of that check.

Guess Payroll figured they’d show me.

Joe and I laughed and laughed and laughed that Payroll had essentially done what I'd initially tried to do to balance their books in the first place.

This memory sent me to google Joe’s name, see if he was still alive.

Not only is he still alive but, holy moley, he's still working with the organization!

I put in something like 30 years before, fully vested, I moved on after a merger and relocation prompted me to accept another opportunity. Joe was there when I first arrived, so counting the years since I left, that means Joe has put in, at a minimum, 50 years.

Jesus! Fifty plus years in one agency.

Looking at Joe's photos, he has a healthy glow, has maintained a youngish appearance and now has the sweet position and title of Public Affairs Director at one the parent companies.

So, he didn't stay in one place— the Law Department, after the merger. Looks like he moved around and then ultimately up.

Too bad he didn't move over and up to the Finance/Payroll Department because, back in the day, it appeared that rather than a group of pencil pushers, they needed someone with common sense.

I imagine that, if I were to receive a repayment letter from SSA requesting a few hundred dollars, that would not be a problem. Hundreds of thousands, like some of those I see mentioned in the news article, would be an unsolvable problem. My only recourse would be to cry foul, because it's their mistake, ignore the letter, suffer the consequences.

I don’t own a home, so they can’t take that in repayment, I’ll survive if they take the only asset I have — the Jeep. So, other than put my arse in jail, there’s not a whole lot they can do to punish me for THEIR mistake.

What would you do?