when i revamped the website i swore i would not write when i was feeling blue. when that happens nothing good comes out of the keyboard it’s all whining and thoughts of self immolation. everyday i think of something clever to say and yet by the time i settle down to write it, those words have been disappeared under a swarm of black thoughts.
this last week has been especially bad for me. i had to appear for a traffic violation and that has not ended well, merely postponed. Even at my age the thought of something marring one’s ‘permanent record’ is enough to keep you in a fetal position under the covers for days.
as if i wasn’t already swimming in a sea made from my own self pity some lowlife cretin hijacked my google account. everyone screams about internal computer security when with google-topia being such a target rich environment, you’re just as likely to get violated from in front as from behind. up until that time i hadn’t actually realized how many googly tendrils i had wrapped around my work.
my stupidest human trick was having all of my emails run through gmail acct for easy retrieval on the fly, ergo any account password updates or security alteration notifications would immediately be seen by my new parasite; of course this thought panicked me no end.
btw, unless you are paying money for something, google is harder to reach than the late JD Salinger. . . I ended up sending 40 to 50 faxes and repeatedly submitting the appropriate form every few minutes for about 10 hours. Surprisingly, it took only 24 hours to regain control over my gmail. From what I can see, the villain’s goal was to insert google ads all over my blogger blogs. Which a paranoid person would assume meant that google is paying these assholes to poke around and knock over the furniture…but what do i know?
Dear gentle readers….don’t fuck around with Drano® it has no balls.
So you wanna hear about the egg-venture? well par for this course, anyway. I found 15 eggs in the fridge….I don’t know how Julia-fresh they were as I can’t remember when I bought them, nonetheless, they were what was being cooked. A three egg omelet seemed a safe choice, with perhaps a little something inside, I THINK i had some still good cheese, after you scrap the outsides most of them turn out to be just fine. And mocking me was a bunch of asparagus that had been had been sitting on the counter for at least 5 days.
After the Board of Trade thingy the other night I ended up with a buddy of mine in yet another social club trolling for a bartender spot. I think if i pester them enough i can get an unpaid ‘internship’ (my word for it) which is probably all I’m likely to get right now. You know exactly what will happen…when orders pickup and the census puts me back on the payroll only THEN will i find my happy place and then i will be overextended and miserable. Right now I am overextended and miserable but dancing dangerously close to the edge of the cliff for my liking. Every day I process the 1 or 2 orders I get, then figure out which product I can afford to restock because I am ALWAYS out of something, usual more than one somethings. Sans a steady stream of orders, it’s impossible to keep every item in stock all at once…..ball juggling is more than a metaphor it’s a way of life.
It seems i can’t work on more than one blog a day….. perhaps less…spent a while bringing armv.org up to a point I feel comfortable leaving it alone for a few days. It took me a few years to get control over the rescue group’s website, which hadn’t been updated since 2004. You know how it is with non profit groups, someone who ‘does this for a living’ insists on contributing a website and then once it’s done never wants to deal with it again, but feels insulted if you want anything changed or updated or god forbid take it over. but as the internet is whipping along at tweeting speed, websites need to be updated as often as possible to be taken seriously. no longer can a website stand static only to be updated when the wind direction changes. If your website doesn’t produce a feed on a regular basis, it can practically be called dead.
I think I may have intimidated someone into putting me behind a bar. I haven’t pushed it yet, it’s not a ‘bad’ place per se, just not what i had expected. I know I know shut up and do it already… I need to go back a few more times before I take the plunge. It’s got cement walls, plastic cups and from what I have been seeing very very few customers. If you don’t count the professional drinkers from the rooming house above. I dropped down again last night, it was a big occasion, they had a band: six band members and five customers. But it got busier as it went along. Not everyone was there to see the band, the bartender was much younger and perkier I have ever been. She had hoop earrings and something “-licious” printed on her t-shirt. But my glimpse into the tip bucket told me that she was doing okay. I doubt I would do as well on a no-band night….and for my chest to ever be considered -licious again I’d need a flying buttress. Let me look through my t-shirts again and get back to you.
This is a stitch..and very important..this will be the best time to find these books and dump them back on the publisher. They are worth more now then they have ever been or will be. So go dig em out kiddos and trade them in for a refund.
Lately I have been thinking of what will become of my internet sites when I die. No I am not PLANNING on kicking off anytime soon, as it is I will be one of those people they find 10 days later when the cats have eaten my pinkies. But it COULD happen, one day there could be a mass transit bus out there with my name on it. Shit happens and now that I am closer to 50 than I ever planned to be, more shit is happening to me at closer and closer intervals.
