Someone is in Deep Bandini

The smoke detector in my unit began beeping around 4:50 yesterday afternoon. Not one loud long beep, but a sharp beep at every few second intervals.

Great, thought I. It would happen after the office closed.

Just on the off chance someone might be working overtime, I walked over, but no. They were all outta here at 4:00.

The Head Maintenance Guy lives just over the office, but he doesn’t give a damn, so I knew better than to ask, incur his anger and hear him repeat his mantra … “I’m off the clock!!!”

When Handsome Guy had glued himself to me at the potluck, one of the things he’d talked about was having a problem with his smoke detector after hours, which he’d resolved by removing the battery.

I really didn’t want to ask him for help, because I didn’t want to seem to be encouraging him and didn’t want him to know which unit I lived in. Not that I was worried about him being a bad guy, but because I didn’t want him misconstruing my calling on him for help as interest and, knowing where I live, give him the opportunity to stop by.

But the constant beeping was annoying, so I bit the bullet and knocked on Handsome Guy's door.

He followed me right over, detached the smoke detector cover from the ceiling, opened the battery compartment and removed the battery.

Didn’t work. Still beeping.

He decided I needed a replacement battery. Not having one, I said I’d go to Rite Aid, pick one up and, now that I saw how he opened up the battery case, felt confident I could handle the rest by myself.

He left his telephone number to call for further assistance just in case.

I was wrong. I couldn't handle it myself because, after I put in a new battery, the smoke detector kept right on beeping.

No way was I going to call on Handsome Guy again, so I called the Emergency Line.

It was the Assistant Maintenance Guy’s (AMG) turn to be on-call and he didn’t want to do his job. He asked me to disconnect the back-up by pulling out the plastic thing that housed the wires and wait until today. I tried, but couldn’t disconnect, at which point AMG said he’d call Handsome Guy to come back.

If I had called Handsome Guy, he would have come. However, Handsome Guy doesn’t like AMG, and for sure would have been aghast at being asked to do AMG's job for him; so knowing this, getting a headache from the constant beeping, I grabbed the Go Bag I’d prepared when we had that last fire on Little Mountain and authorities told us to standby to evacuate, took off and spent the night in a hotel.

Arriving back this morning, around 9:30, I found the smoke detector exactly as I'd left it.

Dangling from wires, still beeping.

Why is it so hard to get people to do the job they’re paid to do?

At any rate, I marched downstairs. Community Manager was busy with the Lady that Wants Braids, but Assistant Manager was available.

“How are you?” she asked.

“Good. Just got back from spending the night at a hotel because my smoke detector kept beeping”.

“Did you call the Emergency Line?”

“Yes, T___ (AMG) told me to disconnect it, unplug the wires.”

She got a puzzled look on her face.

“Why he told you that? … You’re not supposed to touch anything … That’s dangerous”.

AMG is in deep Bandini. Might even get a write-up for not only not responding to an emergency situation while on-call but telling a senior to perform a dangerous maintenance duty.

I know AMG is done with working here, has gotten into arguments with Head Maintenance Guy, walked off the job a couple times, is looking for a new job but, thus far, always comes back in a day or two or three; but he may not be allowed to come back next time or, with stunts like this, is on his way to being asked to leave.

At any rate, Head Maintenance Guy showed up and put in a new battery around 10:45.

I had him show me how to properly disconnect the smoke detector from the wires (there’re two little clips on the side) and which way to insert the plus minus 9 Volts. 

Even though I’m not to touch anything, I won’t be sitting around waiting on Maintenance, or escaping to a hotel, next time -- and there's always a next time.

Miss Popular

Awakened at 3:55 this morning by beeping from my nemesis the smoke detector.

At least this time it had the decency to go off on a day staff is expected to be on hand, albeit six hours before staff actually began work.

At any rate, further sleep out of the question, I began my day, and thought of last time the smoke detector acted up ─ how the beeping stopped when I pulled out the stepstool in preparation for disconnecting the little sucker. Mike had commented the beeping stopped because “the stool changed the airflow in the area of the smoke detector”.

Worth a try thought I.

So, I once again positioned the stepstool under the beeping smoke detector AND ... would you believe, within 15 minutes the beeping stopped.

Whoa!

That’s some weird stuff.

And speaking of weird, because I’d ordered Apache’s birthday present from No. 45’s store, their database considers me a fan and, since the latest scandal, I’ve become Miss Popular with 45 inviting me to breakfast, asking about me, addressing me on a first name basis.

I’m even hearing from Newt and Jr.

It didn’t stop there, I received a survey asking if I’d vote for him in 2020.

My reply ─ “Freak No”.

Another survey asking to rate his performance ─ options being great, good, okay, other.

Of course, the rating was “Other”, which required an explanation.

My explanation ─ “He’s sick. Get him some help”.

I can easily cut off communication by marking as spam, but I’m having way too much fun getting an insider’s view.

Fun that is until he himself calls me out on Twitter and sic’s his dogs on me.

LOL.

And speaking of fun, yesterday (Sunday) was another 5K medal for the wall.

This one was too convenient to pass up ─ just down the street, at the University.

Spotted my friend the Archeologist in the crowd.

At the starting point, was a big furry husky.

This in spite of the sign at the gate.

Also seen at the starting line.

Though I pretty much took my time on the course ─ listening to music on the iPod, enjoying the scenery, the timer at the finish line showed a respectable finish time.

1:00:09

After the race, there was music by a live band.

I got a kick out of watching the old guy on keyboard.

So I’m off this morning to the Pain Cave, after a stop by the office to request maintenance on the now no longer beeping smoke detector.

But, before I go, there was further communication from 45 this morning.

I’ve yet to hear from Melanie, Jared or Ivanka.

ROFLMAO!

Today Was THAT Day

Today was a perfectly pleasant day of running errands ─ got Jeep’s tire pressure checked, stopped by bank’s ATM, stopped by Home Depot for cricket glue strips to lay by the patio window to keep crickets from coming in ─ when I open the patio window for air in the late evenings, and was headed to Sprouts, bopping and singing along to music on country/western station KFROG. THEN I saw this.

My mood changed and I found myself trying to telepathically transmit the thought ─ “So, how’s it going?” to the driver of that car.

If I were she, what with the pandemic, murder of Black people ─ though not a new thing but a thing getting a lot of attention because it’s become so openly egregious, and the subsequent rioting, I’d have been too embarrassed to sport that bumper sticker, would have scratched it off.

When the light changed, and I saw the car looked to also be turning into the lane leading to Sprouts, I told myself that, if she parked near me, I’d point to the sticker and ask her in person, “How’s that working out for you”.

Unfortunately, or lucky for me to save me from my now off-centered self, she turned away from Sprouts and towards Burger King.

I don’t even remember what I’d gone to Sprouts for, but I lucked up on gluten free hot dog buns and organic masa ─ which is the same as gluten free, nothing in it but yellow corn and a trace of lime, which purchases put me back on center, out of thinking about the ugliness going on and that MAGA crap.

Back at the complex, I ran into Next Door Neighbor coming up the stairs same time as I. She indicated she’d gotten onto Yelp, read the review and said, “It’s a good thing they didn’t hear from me!” 

She then went inside her unit, I opened my door, walked in and, before I could put the groceries down, my eyes went to the smoke detector still hanging from the ceiling since January 9 ─ in spite of management saying, “We’ll look into it” at the February 24th Community Meeting, well before the lockdown.

Funny how it is that I’ve become so accustomed to the hanging smoke detector that I stopped noticing it ... that is until today. Something inside rose up and said “Today is that day”.

Suddenly remembering what I’d said about companies paying attention to Yelp reviews, I didn’t even wait to put groceries away. I booted up the laptop and posted a review.

“I’ve been living here 8 years and, although overall it’s a nice place to live, there have been annoying issue that go unresolved. One, like the previous reviewer, is the call box not working … for years. Another, for me, is a defective smoke detector in my unit, reported so many times, with no permanent resolution, that I just gave up reporting, purchased batteries and learned how to replace batteries myself to stop the hours and hours and hours of incessant beeping, every few seconds, every few weeks. When whatever is wrong with the detector caused it to fall out of the ceiling on January 9, I didn’t figure anyone would pay attention if I reported it so I've been living with it. However, at the Community Meeting on February 24, I took a chance at being heard and reported, in that meeting, in front of resident witnesses, that it had fallen out of the ceiling. It was the same ole same ole “We’ll look into it”, and I’m still waiting. It’s been like this since January 9.

I attached that photo to the review and, the only rating options being a low Meh ─I’ve experienced better or a middle A-OK or top Yah! I’m a fan, gave the complex what I thought was fair … the middle rating.

Though I’ve had good results with Yelp reviews producing resolutions in the past ─ once at a car dealership where us customers waited for hours and hours and hours, after our cars were serviced and ready to pick up, before we were told our cars were ready and had been. They even lost one woman’s car. Told her she’d picked it up already. LOL.

I was contacted after that negative review and not charged for several future maintenance services.

Will be interesting to see if management pays attention and finally does something about my smoke detector.

I’m not holding my breath.

So anyway, with buns to freeze for the next hot dog day ─ 4th of July and, with chicken now in the slow cooker for filling, tomorrow will be masa day and tamales to the freezer so I won’t have to cook again for days.

Powering Through

After an estimated 400 plus hours, I’ve decided I do not like the needlepoint project I began in May.

Progress: May through August

I’ll power through to completion, but won’t be gifting to Twin 2 because I can now see it’s not her style.

Of course, she’d appreciate and be happy with the piece, because it’s something made by her mom ─ she’s sentimental like that. But I’d rather gift her something I’ll be happy with knowing she absolutely loves because it fits her stylish sophisticated elegant style to a tee.

Like this .....

A whopping 35-page pattern piece.

With such a huge undertaking, not the planned Christmas gift this year. Looking to be such a long-term commitment that not the next year or the year after that either, but Twin 2 didn’t know I was making a needlepoint for her. Plus, I’ve already gifted her my lottery winnings to pay off a rather large tax debt she’s been struggling to get off the books. So I consider myself covered for Christmas and Birthdays for many years in advance.

LOL.

I will finish the piece I’m now working on, but then gift it elsewhere.

Back in 2016, Apache so liked a piece I was working on that he offered to purchase.

No way was I ever parting with that ─ one of my favorites, but I did knock out and gift him with a canvas I thought he’d like.

Apache was so happy with the piece that he had me sign it ─ like I’m a famous artist or something. ROFLMAO!

Then, in 2017, the Seer was admiring a piece I was powering through to finish, even though I’d decided halfway in that I did not like it. 

Seer was pointing out all the little details she liked in the piece, so I said to her, “I don’t like it, do you want it?”

The answer was an unequivocal yes.

And so that piece now resides in the Seer’s unit.

As for the current project, it doesn’t fit Twin 2’s aesthetics, but it absolutely SCREAMS Twin 1’s urban Afrocentric style.

Not being the expressive type, Twin 1 will accept it, she’ll like it with a smile, but I’ll not be getting an over the top OH MOM! type thing her twin is known for.

I know my children .... even though they don’t think I do. LOL.

On tap for today is to stay in, out of the heat, and not run the errands I need to run. There’s always tomorrow, Saturday and Sunday, to catch up if need be.

According to the Activity Calendar, today is also “Employee Appreciation Day”.

The office is closed.

Staff has been given the day off.

So, of course, with no staff out and about that dang smoke detector began beeping a little while ago.

It hasn’t been long since the Sunday I had to call after-hours maintenance for battery replacement, so I can only assume maintenance is using lousy weak dollar store batteries.

Expecting the smoke detector to begin once again screwing with me, when no staff was available, I paid close attention to how the smoke detector was disconnected that time.

I am so not having it today that I pulled out my step stool, in preparation for disconnecting the unit my own darn self.

All of a sudden, the beeping stopped.

Did my resolve scare the smoke detector? Is there a devilish entity in the mechanism or what?

At any rate, I’m leaving the stool at the ready, just in case.

Done and Overdone

Saturday was a nice day for a drive, so I headed back to the medical center for bloodwork.

Arriving at 9:30, judging by that last experience, I was prepared for a long wait with two Woman’s World magazines and the iPod to entertain me, just in case I finished reading the mags.

My number was 10.

The number being served was 93.

Seventeen ahead of me. About the same number as were ahead of me the day before but what a difference a day makes.

The Saturday crew was way more efficient than Friday’s crew, because numbers began to click down at such a rapid pace that I didn’t get through the first magazine.

My number was reached at 9:53 and I was on the road headed back to the complex by 10:02.

So, bloodwork is done.

Overdone was my latest foray in the kitchen.

Deciding on sweet potato chips and coffee for lunch that day, I thinly sliced a sweet potato, dusted with a Cajun spice mix I put together myself, olive oil and put in the oven to slow roast.

It usually takes some time for the slices to crisp, so I logged onto the computer and was surfing around during which surfing I became vaguely aware of a weird smell.

Not nearly enough time for the chips to be done. Not even close, though I, so I ignored the smell until it was so bad that I finally got up to investigate.

I’d forgotten to set the oven to slow and low.

At least the smoke detector didn’t go off this time.

A funny smell hit my nose just the day before, while on the couch deeply engrossed in that needlepoint project after returning from the failed trip to the lab.

What is that? thought I, but that’s as far as it went.

A short while later the smoke detector went off, which caused me to look up from the needlepoint and see the room I was seated in was filling with smoke.

Turns out, I’d placed a cast iron skillet on a burner that hadn’t been turned off.

Opening the front door and patio window to allow smoke to flow away from the smoke detector and turning on the stove fan to suck smoke out got things under control rather quickly, and you think I’d subsequently pay more attention to my sense of smell.

But nooooo. The very next day, I ignored the burning smell until the sweet potatoes burned to a crisp.

My mom, in her senior years, burned down her kitchen ... three times in a row. Homeowner’s paid for a brand-new kitchen each time, but still.

Renters insurance isn’t required for this complex, but I’m glad I finally broke down and decided to get it a little over a year ago.

Still wanting chips for lunch, I gave it a second go.

Nice and crisp. Spicy, healthy and addictively tasty. Worth the effort.

On tap for today is to find out how the seniors reacted to those raunchy Movie Night sex scenes between Billy Bob and Haley.

Evacuation Day?

That’s what came out of yesterday’s Community Meeting, which turned out not to be a management/residents meeting, but a complete snooze fest when Community Manager (CM) started off saying it was a “Resident Safety Meeting”, there was an agenda, with emergency preparedness presentations by representatives from various agencies, and we’d be sticking to topic.

Keeping seniors focused and on topic is like herding cats, but I have to give it to CM that he mostly managed to do so.

From the few cats that managed to get loose, before CM could herd then back in, I learned I’m not the only one experiencing smoke detector hell ─ which leads me to believe the detectors here are defective. Probably because, when in 2014, the current management company bought the property and did what they say was a $4.5 million “complete renovation”, the renovation consisted of using cheap labor to replace old things that worked perfectly fine with cheap new things (so corporate bigwigs could cheap their way into squirrelling away money for their bonuses). Cheap new things that quickly ceased working and which, to this day, is the bulk of what the maintenance guys do ─ run around trying to keep those cheap things functioning.

The cats that interrupted the fire department presenter to say their smoke detectors would go off at odd times were quickly dismissed with “You were probably cooking”.

I wasn’t cooking at 3:15 in the morning, nor was I cooking the other times the beeping began driving me crazy. In fact, the one time I forgot to turn the burner off under a pot, and was so engrossed in needlepoint that I didn’t realize the room had filled with smoke, the detector never issued an alert. LOL.

No matter, I’ve solved my smoke detector problem.

I’m hoping the fire department gets in and sees this while doing their detector check, so I can tell the fire department the detectors are defective and management knows it, before management gets in to do its pre-inspection, realizes I’ve solved my own problem and MacGyvers it back up to hide the problem.

There would have be no point mentioning it at yesterday’s meet. CM would have herded me back in with “We will look into it”, which is what he told me the last three times I told him there appears to be a problem with my detector.

Another thing that came out in yesterday’s meet, which I heard just as I was walking out the door ─ because the meet had run over into 11:20 and I needed to head for the pain cave, was that a flight from the epicenter of the coronavirus was scheduled to land at the Ontario Airport.

WHA WHA WHAT?!

Fortunately, the news this morning is the flight was diverted to the Air Reserve Base.

Good for us, not so good for them, and still too close for comfort, prompting me to cancel Friday’s appointment at the medical center to discuss what if anything can be done about reoccurring gut issues, even though I’ve limited myself to safe foods.

With the appearance of so many signs we're living in the final days (the evil men are flourishing, the fires) and now mysterious plaques, like the new flu and coronavirus, I thought better of putting myself in a hospital setting.

I also won’t be getting my nails done any time soon, because I don’t know which of the nail technicians have travelled to China or have relatives who’ve travelled.

Better safe than sorry.

Before I had to leave the session, we were handed maps of the property indicating which exits we are to take in case of a fire emergency, and told to memorize our exits because we’ll be having an Evacuation Day.

WHA WHA WHAT?!

An alarm will sound, we are to go to our designated spot and wait to be signed in.

Seriously?

Not only does this strike me as unnecessary but, considering the condition some of our residents are in, not possible to pull off.

But so long as the alarm doesn’t sound before I’m dressed for the day, make up and all, I’ll play along.

I’ll be taking my lawn chair and a cup of coffee to my designated location, to watch in comfort what is sure to be a spectacle.

Rough Morning

Today started off rough with a dream trainer and I were having a disagreement that resulted in my walking out.

I hope it’s not a precog dream, but it felt pretty detailed not to be.

A few weeks ago, two women came into the pain cave looking to get fit.

Trainer had posted, just before Christmas that he’d not be accepting anymore cross fit clients, as he’d be focusing on his muay thai boxing clients this year.

A lot of his decision has to do with the cross fit clients complaining too much about how hard it is, not wanting to follow instructions without complaint, not showing up. He says the complaining, lack of dedication brings him down.

Okay, I understand ... his time is valuable, his choice as to where to use that time. I was just relieved he’d be keeping those of us already involved in cross fit on his roster.

What I had a bit of a problem with was the way he spoke to the two woman, who were quite literally begging him to take them on. Instead of saying no, he said maybe and lectured them that, if I do take you on, I expect this, that, the other, I don’t want to hear this, that, the other.

Had he laid down the law to me, as he was laying it down to these two women, coming from a place of ego, I would have said “Never mind, F you” and suggested he get over himself as I headed for the exit.

That pretty much was the substance of the dream, only it was me being lectured to.

I was in session, there were others in the room, trainer told me to make a move I was unfamiliar with and I began looking to him to give me a demonstration. He became short tempered that I didn’t know what to do and, showing off a bit in front of others, began lecturing me.

I wordlessly picked up my stuff and headed for the door.

“Where are you going?” asked trainer.

“Thank you for the work you’ve put into me, but I won’t deal with this ego of yours” said I as I walked out the door.

Trainer followed, there was an apology ─ which I ignored as I got in the car and drove away. There was then a text message apology, a request for me to come back, but I said, though I accept the apology, it would feel weird, that I’d no longer feel comfortable with him.

The dream then shifted to thinking how to continue training on my own when I was suddenly awakened by a BEEP!

It was the smoke detector yet again.

Looking at the clock, it was 3:15 a.m.

Happy to be out of that dream, but not planning to repeat what happened last month, when it was smoke detector hell, with the mechanism beeping every 19 seconds for something like 6 hours, because management said, though I’d described the beeping as “driving me crazy”, it wasn’t considered a maintenance emergency, that the guys would get around to it.

Long-time readers will recall that brouhaha when the detector went off after hours, no one would come fix it until the next morning so, unable to sleep through it, I went to a hotel.

It’s like every month there’s drama with this smoke detector, so obviously there’s a problem with the mechanism but, after all I'd tolerated only to be told this last time wasn’t considered an emergency, I decided I’d never call in a fix-it request again. I’d find a way to fix it my own darn self.

Tada! …. Fixed it!

All units are getting their annual inspection next week/week after. Can’t wait to see management’s face.

If asked why I didn’t call it in, my reply will be “I was not willing to be inconvenienced from 3:15 in the morning until you guys decided to get around to my non-emergency”.

BAM!

After that very detailed dream, I was a little reticent about this morning’s training session. Everything was normal, went well, but the dream has me a little on guard ... waiting for the shoe to drop.

Three Hundred and Six Days Later

The wind and sand storm, that tore through the complex on October 27, caused the planned “inspection and testing to ensure all smoke detectors are working properly and identifying whether your heating/air conditioning unit require a new air filter” by management to be rescheduled to this morning, between 9:00 and 11:00.

Not trusting myself to be civil with the guys, should they play stupid and ask me questions for which they already knew the answer, like ... why the smoke detector was hanging from the ceiling and how long it had been that way, I thought today would be a good day to get out, get away, head to the mall, log in some miles.

I was out the door and on the road at 9:00, with windows opened to air out the place, so the guys didn’t leave any cooties behind, and the smoke detector looking like this.
 

By the time I reached the mall, I decided to first stop by the bank in that center, grab some cash for the next few weeks, go next door to Starbucks, get a gift card for that nice mail carrier, then walk.

Color me surprised when I saw the bank boarded up, lock, stock, barrel, ATM machine.

That branch is now an abandoned building ─ due to Covid I’m assuming.

I’d have taken a photo for you, but some guy was sitting in the lot, eating his McDonald’s next-door breakfast, watching me circle the lot, looking at the building in amazement. He might have thought it was weird enough to call the cops if I’d started taking photos.

So, anyway, I had to do some backtracking to another branch. Fortunately, that branch ─ which had previously been closed, was now open for business and, luckily, there was a Starbucks two doors down.

By now, I was no longer thinking about logging in miles, but running other errands ─ like Sprouts, for those frozen organic fries I love so much and the Craft Store, for paint to bring my patio chair (damaged by sun, wind, rain) back to life.

Arriving at the craft store first, seeing the lot crowded, I went out of my way to drive all the way back to the furthest parking spot from the store, found a spot where there were no cars parked to the right of me, and no cars in the first two spots to my left.

I got out of the car, began walking across those empty spots, and here is where I almost died.

 

 Or at least almost became gravely injured by this car.
 

Because the female driver, busy running her mouth to her seatmate, actually looking AT her seatmate, came out of nowhere and began turning into the spot, coming straight at me.

I saw her as she began making the turn, but continuing to walk across the empty space, because I assumed she’d see me and let me clear.

She didn’t.

When I saw her not stopping, I froze, waiting for the hit, but her seatmate said something, whereupon she turned eyes forward and slammed on the brakes.

I didn’t say anything. Didn’t shake my head. Didn’t give her a dirty look. It was like an out-of-body, calm as a cucumber, detached moment as I continued on to the craft store, but I hope almost harming someone scared HER enough to be eyes forward in future.

I’m chalking up the incident as distracted driving, because I was in the parking lot of Michael’s Craft Store. However, if I’d been in the parking lot of No. 45 loving/Black Lives Don’t Matter Hobby Lobby, I’d have thought it was an intentional trying to run me down. LOL.

I took those photos after the fact, by the way, when I finished shopping and saw she’d parked a space over.
 

 While inside the craft store, I had a little impulse buy.
 

Outside

 

Inside

I need another coffee cup like I need a hole in the head, but the message of being "tired" so exemplified 2020 that I had to add it to my collection.

Arriving back at the complex around 12:15, I was met with the smoke detector looking like this.
 

It only took the guys 306 days AND, if it starts that infernal beeping again, I’ll pull it back out ... this time not on accident, but on purpose, because it worked better while hanging.

Sunday Funday Not

It was raining cats and dogs when the alarm got me out of bed 5 a.m. Sunday. Plan for the day was to take the place of Twin 2’s partner, who’d had to drop out of a 5K the two had scheduled.

Hoping the rain would run its course by the time I had to leave the complex, I went ahead with the regular preparations. Lo and behold, the deluge did slow down, then stop but, just as it was time to head for the door, it started up again.

That was it for me. I called Twin 2, said sorry to let her down ... she’ll be racing alone because walking in that kind of weather was not for me.

She herself was already on the road headed for the site, saying the weather didn’t deter her at all. I later learned it also didn’t deter a couple hundred others who showed up.

Oh well, that opportunity to get in some walking miles gone by, I spent the day on the couch, working on the new needlepoint project, watching the Endeavor marathon on PBS and, at times, slipping away into a nap.

It was a peaceful morning until the smoke detector in the front room began beeping that intermittent sound it makes, every few seconds, when the battery needs replacing.

OMG! thought I. First the rain putting a kink in my plans now this.

Why does the beeping always start after hours and weekends, when the office is closed, no staff around?

Last time it happened was when the on-call guy, who did not live on the property, didn’t want to return to the property, fix the problem. That time, the intermittent beeping was like water torture. I couldn’t take it all evening and overnight, so I went to a hotel.

This time I was determined not to let the beeping run me out of the unit but, after two hours, I was thinking hotel again, but first I took a stab at trying to disable the detector as I’d seen it done last time.

Couldn’t even get the top off, so I took a chance and left a message on the on-call line, hoping I’d get a better response this time.

Surprisingly, I did.

About an hour later.

I was lucky because Head Maintenance Guy (HMG), who does live on the property, had the on-call duty ─ rather than his assistant who does not live here, but it took him an hour because he was coming from church, not his unit.

HMG disabled the unit and said he’d bring a battery this morning (note to self for next time: open by twisting the thing and squeeze the clip to detach).

I’m so fed up with that detector in the front room screwing with me that I told him to take his time, that I’d like to see it disabled forever.

Evidently, he took me at my word because it’s almost quitting time and he hasn’t shown up with a battery.

Fine by me. I just better not be starting any fires by forgetting to turn a burner off with a cast iron skillet on top of the burner, as I’ve done twice in the past, setting off a real alert on the smoke detector.

There’s a backup detector in the bedroom that never gives me grief, so no worries about none in the front room. It will just take longer to get the alert if I have another senior moment.

Stream of Consciousness

Also known as, this and that on this Labor Day ─ not looking much like a holiday around here, except for the absence of staff.

I made it through the weekend without the smoke detector going off again.

This may be because I didn’t move the stepstool.

When I’d pulled out the stepstool to disconnect the beeping mechanism on Friday, the beeping stopped. This made me superstitious that, if I put the stepstool away, the smoke detector would start beeping again. Not wanting to take the chance, I left the stool as was.

With staff back tomorrow, I can then take the chance to put the stool back in storage.

If there is no beeping during the day but, if after hours, when staff has left for the day, the beeping restarts, I’ll know for sure the smoke detector is possessed.

A spiritual practitioner I’ve worked with for years, now basically retired from the practice, living in Hawaii, celebrated her 100^th birthday over the weekend.

She said it was a goal to live to 100.

It surprised me that she, or anyone, would actually set 100 as a goal.

To each their own, I guess.

It also got me to thinking that, even though this practitioner looks to be in good condition for her age, living to 100 would not be something I’d want for myself.

As it is, I continue to be surprised that I’m still here, when I’d always felt I’d be gone by 35 ─ one way or another.

Here I am 40 years past that, with no end in sight.

That’s the reason why I signed up to workout at the Pain Cave.

Inasmuch as it never entered my mind to live this long, I’d not paid a whole lot of attention to maintaining my physicality, other than normal upkeep.

I’ve got a few things that, had I been more concerned with my physicality, would not be a challenge now. But, as has been said, “If I knew I was going to live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself”.

At any rate, it is what it is and, looking around at how some of my neighbors have fared in this aging game, what is could have been a whole lot worse.

Sitting on my couch perch, people watching through the patio window, it was scary to see residents previously observed bouncing along the path, had deteriorated to the point of shuffling along, looking like one of AMC’s Walking Dead, or now dependent on a cane or walker.

Realizing the deteriorating atmosphere was rubbing off ─ that I myself was getting slower, weaker, felt tired all the time, I decided that, since I don’t know when my expiration date will be, I didn’t want to go out the way the other residents are going and had better make the best of it, get myself in as good a shape as I can at this stage.

But though I feel, had I known I was to live this long, I’d have taken better care of myself, Trainer tells me I’m in better shape than some of his clients in their 20’s and 30’s.

“How is that possible?” asked I.

“Too much partying, overindulgences”, said he. “By the time they get to me, it’s a complete rebuild, rather than a restore”.

Trainer says it’s not unusual for the younger clients to find the work so hard that they throw up during a session.

He says, one young lady stopped in the middle of a workout, said, “It’s too hard. I can’t do this anymore” and walked out, never to return.

Other clients have complained so much about it being hard, and whine about not wanting to do this routine, not wanting to struggle with that equipment, yada yada yada, that Trainers says it brings him down. He’s told them, “I can’t work with you” and sent them on their way.

LOL.

So, though I still occasionally wish I’d known I was going to live this long, so I could have done some things differently, it is what it is and I’m grateful the is isn’t worse.

Still, I’m hoping so not to 100.

All day Sunday was prep work for the new stitch piece.

I had to zigzag stitch the edges of the aida cloth, so it would not fray. And it took hours and hours and hours to set up 65 different floss colors.

I’m so anxious to start the new project that, though I’ve not yet finished the current piece, I’ve decided to work on both, but on alternating days.

This should be interesting.

Later in the evening, while watching Big Brother, I decided to give myself a mani/pedi.

When I’d been at Michael’s the day before yesterday, I’d gotten into a discussion with the nicely manicured cashier about her nail art and how I was thinking about, but was reluctant to try, the new social media sensation ─ Skittle Nails.

As seen on the internet

I told the cashier that though I liked the way it looked on other people, I was afraid I myself would look like a clown.

“Sometimes, we’ve got to step outside our comfort zone”, said she.

That statement struck my somewhat conservative basic one-color or french manicure self, and I thought … why not.

I’m liking it.

Think it will be my thing for a while.

It’s a great way to use up a stash of leftover colors.