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 Knock Knock 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 knock knock 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.

Knock Knock's mom said she’d been tasked with the duty of distributing the donuts and that Knock Knock 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.

Knock Knock 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.

Knock Knock, 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, Knock Knock 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, Knock Knock 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 Knock Knock to/from the pool, and today it looked like Knock Knock'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.