Still Underwater
Another Saturday at the computer. Didn't bother to go out for
breakfast, but fixed a sandwich and drank a Coke. Plenty of vitamins and
minerals and cholesterol to bang away at a journal entry and stay out of
the nasty sunlight while my landlord (until the 15th of next month) digs
post holes three or four feet outside my front door into which he will
place supports for a visual barrier to fence out our small courtyard. I
am moving, psychological damage be damned, but my friends upstairs have
decided to stay for reasons of money and a dearth of landlords who will
rent to four tenants.
Rockridge, even "lower" Rockridge where I reside (wrinkle your nose here
if you're the least bit snobbish) is considered a desirable place to live
and the rents are quite high. Even this hole in the wall no windows too
much noise coming through the ceiling no water pressure can't take a
shower not enough hot water apartment with a decent sized kitchen goes
for a lot of money. If I am going to pay a lot of money, I am going to
live in better surroundings. Like my new place. Which, come to think of
it, I have not checked out for sound proofing and troublesome neighbors
like me who have old but very large stereos.
My cat is in a feisty mood, hanging onto my left forearm trying to
twist it off with nothing more than small dagger like claws and pointed
but not brushed very often teeth to get the necessary grip. This has reminded
me of the fresh catnip sitting in the plastic bag on top of the bookshelves
behind me that MSW left on my desk yesterday for Mr. Wuss. This would
be a good place to insert a photograph of MSW, but she has strictly
forbidden it and I, for reasons too many and commonplace, must comply.
Still, my sitting here typing instead of outside shooting photographs
for next week's journal makes stoned cat pictures a possible and maybe
necessary out, since I can do them indoors with strobe lights. It will
also allow me to practice using the infrared triggers. I have not yet
figured out how to shoot a decent photograph with the clever infrared
triggers and, if I were someone reading this right now who even dimly
understood how many complicated camera gadgets I possess, including
these same infrared triggers, who even dimly perceived how little I
know how to use them, would snigger. Don't snigger. I will use organic
cat drugs (garden grown, no pesticides) as a low excuse to learn. Later.
By Monday I must pack boxes, the model railroad assemblage of books,
magazines, model kits and tools, pieces of benchwork and photographs being
the first target. Let's just say I have a lot of model railroad stuff and
I am going to order the storage cube delivered for the weekend of the 24th
after I return from Seattle and I must get this crap (rare and valuable
personal model railroad possessions) ready. Sitting here at the computer
is a way to avoid this, I know, but I do have an entry to write so I'll
say OK, that's true, I'm procrastinating and then I'll pack the boxes by
Monday morning. Some things just have to be messy and moving is one of them.