See What Happens
Four hours cleaning the bathroom and the kitchen on Saturday at the old apartment. Not bad. Not bad at all. Looks OK. Sunday, tired to the bone, I hooked up the stereo, put the records up on the shelves and made some headway with the books. The place still looks like a box factory, but a smaller box factory, with isle ways now, so I don't have to hop as I walk into the bedroom. No coughing during the day, although I suspect I'll be coughing tonight. I'm not sure what any of this funk is about: real, psychosomatic, burned out - need a vacation or what, but maybe it's coming together and I can get off these never ending weird assed wonderings about where the world, my world, is headed. Let's see what happens with the company when they start letting people go before Christmas. Tomorrow, next month, pretty soon. For now, let's forget it.
Tuesday, now, after work. I had or have the flu, I think, classic symptoms. The coughing has pretty much ceased, most of it Friday night, still the vague tickle in the chest, but I think that part of the adventure is over. Tired, but less tired. Up for writing this, I think, we'll see about finding and then scanning some photographs.
Here in the San Francisco bay area people are waiting on a vote by one of the BART (our commuter line) unions, two hundred and thirty middle managers, average income $77,000 per annum, who are upset with their proposed contract, which includes a 22% raise. The issues have to do with employment security, something we don't really have in the private sector. You're a middle manager in our business and your ass is grass any time the company pulls out a lawn mower. What this means is 300,000 commuters don't know if they will have a ride tomorrow. They're pissed. Really pissed. All of the other unions, many thousands strong, have settled.
This is well and good for someone like me, since I can walk or take the bus. I suspect there is more to it than a bunch of greed heads looking for a contract and fuck the public, but that's the way people see it. When I went to my bus stop outside the office late this afternoon, the street and sidewalk were filled with television news teams from all of the local stations, waiting, evidently, for some announcement. Cameras set up, lights in place, the truck microwave antennas fully extended, people standing around waiting. Evidently BART management and the union were meeting in the building across the street from my office. Five in the afternoon, still no word. So I shot some pictures while I was waiting for the bus. First pictures I've taken since the wedding on Saturday.
Mr. Wuss still doesn't quite have it together. He's been pooping on the rug every now and then. So far, no problem. I've set up the automatic kitty litter box out on the balcony and the cat door is due here day after tomorrow, so maybe that will solve the problem. The current futuristic plastic kitty litter box is sitting on the kitchen floor and I really want to get rid of it before I start cooking. This weekend. Stir fry, maybe. See what happens.
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