#dadletter

22 September 2019

Dear Dad--

Last email before I move! Rest assured, every waking moment I am screaming internally with either excitement or terror. Yesterday I saw my old college friend Jason for the first time in several years, probably for the last time in several years too. Saw Stacy the day before that. Everyone assures Zach and me that we’re doing something good, and brave, and scary, and wonderful. Sometimes it feels like self-determination; other times it just feels like fleeing. 

Between visits from friendlies, Zach and I are working our asses off. I just finished cleaning the oven. That took two passes with oven cleaner and paper towels and elbow grease, but it looks so sparkling clean now. It actually makes a “ting” sound whenever you look at it. Then, feeling an "oven" vibe, I cleaned out the microwave. (The microwave belongs to the apartment, not to us.) I don’t know how I didn’t know this already, but my microwave looked like a footlong chili dog had exploded inside it, coating the walls with dark red stalactites. Both ovens were disgusting! Both are clean enough to move out now.

I would say we’re 75% done packing and cleaning, and I only feel about 60% like barfing right now, which is good. A combination of small errands, lists, thinking, over-thinking, and fretting has helped us keep on top of everything. My cat still doesn’t like being in the car, so he’s just going to hate the drive and deal with it. I don’t care to give him kitty downers to help him through. I don’t get drugs to help me drive, so kitty doesn’t either. He can just learn to nap through his terror. I’ll simply have to rely on the kitty’s incapacity to remember his anguish to aid his post-trip recovery. :)

I hope things are improving for you and Elaine! Understanding that I may be biased, I’d recommend medicinal marijuana for what ails her! And you, and the President, and most everyone in this country. Perhaps it won’t be long before it’s decriminalized nationally and you can start receiving it in the form of pot-infused cookies through the mail. I know there’s at least a few places in the USA where you can have your weed delivered. Anyway, if she needs a non-opioid to help with pain, or something to help relaxation or sleep, she may find some solace with it. Also she may get high and want to watch stupid movies, and eat cereal out of the box, all benefits too valuable to be second-guessed. 

Seeing my friend Jason yesterday was interesting. Like me, he’s now a 50+ year old white guy with type II diabetes. (We’re both thinking it was the nonstop river of sweet, carbonated sodas we consumed as adults, for me, Coke. For him, Mountain Dew.) He’s so disgusted with the state of the planet ecologically, and the state of the world politically, and in particular the state of the USA politically, and its health care system. This, I suppose, is why I always gravitated towards him. We’re in agreement about most of what we observe in the world. Fascism is bad. Compassion and empathy are good. Crazy, controversial stuff like that. We found out some stuff we didn’t know about each other. For example, we both, from time to time, play a (now very old) video game called Diablo 2. It’s so great that neither of us has ever been able to give it up entirely. And we discovered that neither one of us had ever solved the game. That’s really unusual, for something we’ve played so much, but it’s true of both of us. 

So Jason came yesterday morning, and Jason left yesterday afternoon. Zach and I did some packing and some desultory house-hunting. Mobile homes are starting to look better and better.

I’d say there’s now a good chance we may end up in a mobile home. I’m not crazy about this, on its face, but there are a few things about mobile homes that make them attractive: they suck, so they’re inexpensive, because no one wants to spend too much time inside one. (Granted, mobile homes can be large and downright opulent, just not the ones available for rent in Bangor.) Also, they tend to have more than one bedroom. We want to have a guest bedroom so folks can visit! Mobile homes also tend to be pet-friendly, and to have washer and dryer connections, almost like they expect you to be a grownup with a pet, and clothes that need cleaning, unlike most of the apartments here. 

There’s one mobile home that’s been available for rent the whole time Zach and I have been house hunting. It’s a relatively small two-bedroom, but it’s a two-bedroom, it’s pet friendly, and it has washer and dryer connections. The inside has been gutted and re-done (new insulation, walls, ceiling, etc...which I didn’t know you could do in a mobile home) and it’s still unpleasant to look at from the inside. The main walls in the living room are wood panelling on the bottom half, and wood shingles on the top half, because...who doesn’t want shingles in their living room? I suppose that was someone’s bold design choice, except (a) the fuck? Why? And, (b) How do I hang pictures from that shit? 

But, and this is the important part, that mobile home would be big enough (and, technically, nice enough) for me and Zach and Samuel L. Jackson, Cat, and the rent has just gone down to $620 per month. We pay $1050 for a one-bedroom now. Our rent would drop 40%. With our savings, we could easily pay six months in advance. With only a bit of discomfort, we could pay for a year. Then the only downside would be that we live in a trailer that looks like shit, and someone has put the word “SHE” on the outside. It’s in lot number 47, so the outside of the trailer says “47” with “SHE” right under it. So if we do decide that this trailer is to be our new home in Bangor, one of us is going to have to go outside and remove the “S” somehow. It would be in keeping with the aesthetics of the place if we X-ed out the “S” with a thick black marker. And that’s how the delivery people will find us. “It’s trailer 47, the one that used to say “SHE” but now says “HE.”

Wednesday at 2:00 p.m., the U-Haul pods show up, along with movers to load them. We’ll stay there Wednesday night and all of Thursday, doing final errands and cleanup. Next Friday morning we’ll start driving for our first destination, Nashville. I predict everything will work out just fine. :)

17 March, 2019

Dear Dad--

Happy St. Patrick’s Day! I’m going to celebrate the day by doing my usual Sunday shit, laundry and whatnot, only wearing a green sweater. I don’t know why we celebrate this holiday, nor what St. Patrick did. (It involved drinking, I assume…?) So we just got our Sunday morning breakfast tacos and now we’re back listening to Sunday morning jazz on the radio.

Went to the zoo yesterday! If you didn’t know Austin had a zoo, that’s probably because it’s a pretty modest zoo. I get the impression that the zoo sprang up organically when a place became necessary to house exotic animals that suddenly became homeless. I’m guessing this is when the police go raid someone’s house because of something drug-related and it turns out they owned a pet tiger. Can’t just have it taken to the local animal shelter! But this zoo has been around long enough and is large enough that it counts as an actual zoo. It has lions and tigers and bears, and a few other big animals. Also it has a petting zoo.

I accidentally witnessed an ostrich getting an erection, and I’m honestly still a bit post-traumatic stressed over it. (It was really awful. It was fifty times more gross than I could have imagined.) but the rest of the trip was great! I’ll include some of the pics I took. My favorites are the lions. Also they let peacocks roam around the zoo at will, dozens of them. So it’s not unusual to have to walk around a peacock, or wait while one walks around you. And of course the zoo sells little bags of critter chow that you can use to feed the goats and deer and llamas and sheep in the petting zoo. Feeding a handful of (what looks like) dog food to a deer is very damn relaxing. They’re so quiet and demure, seemingly polite, and you can almost hear them saying please and thank you when you feed them.

I managed to make it through the week without dousing myself in a chocolate health shake. The hummingbird feeders (all two of them) are deployed, but I’ve yet to get a visit from a hummingbird. They’re obviously still partying in Mexico. The bluebonnets have come out in force.

Today makes two weeks free from cigarettes! I’ve found the worst parts have been (a) not having any cigarettes, and (b) still desiring cigarettes, and (c) wondering when the cigarettes will return, and why my loved ones refuse to purchase some and bring them to me. I also have a big stack of unused Nicorettes...must be $40 worth of nicotine gum I haven’t needed. I used nicotine gum for the first few days, but after that, I thought, why am I still doing this? I can chew regular gum and it’ll be pretty much the same. Plus, getting off nicotine is one of the big objectives here anyway, so...get off it!

I didn’t find the nicotine withdrawal to be very noticeable. I just notice craving a cigarette every damn waking moment. And I can see why an employer would like it when you quit smoking, since it’ll probably cost less to cover you with health insurance, and you know what, ever since I quit smoking I haven’t really needed to take breaks at work any more. What’s the point? If I don’t have to run outside to smoke and be in the fresh air and socialize while giving myself emphysema and lung cancer and heart disease, et cetera, I might as well just stay at my desk and keep working. Or I’ll stop doing my job on my computer and just spend a few minutes reading the news on my computer instead. Either way, Progressive is going to like it, cause they’re getting more productivity out of me. And stuff is supposed to taste and smell nicer. And my lungs are happier and I’m saving money by not buying cigarettes. Mostly this is me reminding myself why I quit, and should stay quit.

I may have mentioned Zach’s music in the past. I may have mentioned his music is experimental and atonal and has no beat. Well, some people are into that, and they’re scattered around the world. But thanks to the internet, Zach is connecting with them! Again, his music is nothing that gets produced in a studio and released on CDs or albums, but he will get played on radio stations that broadcast experimental music. He’s been broadcast in Glasgow once. He has a collaborative partner in Australia. And a woman in Germany just made a vocal track for some of his music, and he’s now collaborating with her. To say nothing of the handful of different American people he sometimes interacts with musically. I’m kinda proud!

By the way. It seems that the picture I post with these letters to Dad are (and have usually been) pictures that I came across while looking for ones to include in my email to him. These are invariably the ones I chose not to send. :)

Dear Dad--

Well! The last week was certainly eventful! Now I remember why I hate living in eventful times. Good stuff, bad stuff. I suppose the week kind of began with the Super Blood Wolf Moon lunar eclipse. I got a few good pics; I’ll include some. My camera has a few features that it shouldn’t have, so obtaining good pictures of anything can prove elusive. The camera has a knob where you adjust its settings--whether everything is done automatically, or you set the shutter speed and f-stop yourself, or special settings to compensate for backlight, or fireworks, or close-up portraits, etc.--and despite not having touched the knob, the camera will frequently stop doing whatever you want it to do, and start switching settings. I’ll be photographing something like hummingbirds, which can be very quick, and the camera will stop and say, “Switching to night landscape mode!” and switch me automatically, then switch back, then switch again, then switch back again. It makes you want to drop-kick the camera into the street. But I got some pretty good shots of the eclipse before my battery died.

Thank you kindly for your birthday email! Overall, my birthday was tense and unenjoyable! The government was still shut down, Zach still had to work, I still had to work, and get observed by the number three guy in the company while I took phone calls. It went well. Another feather in my cap. The more I do impressive shit, the more likely I’ll get an extra bonus for doing well on my annual evaluation. (And it’s sentences like that, which most make me want to finally quit this job and move on to pastures new.) So with regards to the job I’ve continued to dislike for the past 22 years or so, I continue to do great at it, and they continue to show their appreciation by paying me. Hell, I brought donuts for the team last week! Nothing makes a call center full of Austin weirdos happier than donuts. I got a few sausage kolaches too. Pretty sure my team likes me.

So! The government shutdown has ended temporarily! And as soon as they can do a payroll, they’re doing to do it. That seems to take a few days, which I don’t understand, as it’s almost certainly all electronic (i.e. Pay him now, ya fuckers!), but that shouldn’t cause any extra financial mayhem for us, as long as it’s soon. And, of course, the shutdown may happen again after three weeks, but that feels less likely. It seems like the whole airline industry was starting to go over the cliff, and that affects members of Congress, too! (Oh no! The company that makes lawn jockeys is declaring Chapter 11! We must reopen the government, immediately! Harumph! Harumph!) So that will be a small boon to us. Zach will be paid enough to make up for the 38 or so days that he went without pay. We’ll have a delayed birthday for me, so Zach can do whatever nice thing he wants to do for me. We’ll get the car accident taken care of.

Regarding the car accident! I probably mentioned the wreck that Zach had. State Farm has totalled his car, which is so very inconvenient, but we believe they’ll be paying him enough that he’ll be able to get an equally unimpressive replacement car. That’s good! We still haven’t heard from the police yet, and I’m guessing they’ll have some firm opinions about whether Zach was at fault for the accident, and what must be done about the fact that he left the scene.

We figure worst case scenario: The police determine Zach was 100% at fault for the accident, and they declare as much on the police report, and they give Zach two tickets (for failure to yield right of way, and leaving the scene) totalling $450. State Farm pays for everything, and jacks my rates up the next time my policy renews. Best case scenario: (and I’m pretty sure this won’t happen, just because it makes sense and feels fair) Zach is not at fault (or perhaps partially at fault) and no tickets will be issued. If the other driver is at fault, then their insurance will pay or reimburse for everything, and we dance in the street singing hallelujah.

A lot will depend, I suppose, on whether the detective assigned to handle this accident will speak to Zach before making a determination, and on that detective’s capacity for empathy and mercy. I’ve had good fortune with the local police in the past. The few times I’ve needed them, it was for help with something, and help they did. Anyone who talks to Zach for two minutes can tell he’s not about to break the law on purpose, if, for no other reason, because it’s terrifying for him, and gives police the power to fuck up his life. This is pretty much how laws and law enforcement are supposed to work anyway, right?

13 January, 2019

Dear Dad--

Well, I did my taxes yesterday! And I should get a nice refund, if the IRS Is ever up and running again. I’m unnervingly prompt when doing my taxes. Basically, I’m just waiting for my W2 to come in. As soon as I get the email with my W2 from Progressive, I get on the TurboTax website and file my taxes. I have one source of income, and for tax purposes I’m single with no dependents, and no one who can claim me as a dependent, and I’m not blind, and I’m not paying off a student loan, so...doing my taxes generally takes about 20 minutes. Then I’m just waiting for the refund. I’m sure I’ll still get my refund in a decent amount of time, mostly because my taxes are so ridiculously simple and boring, and it’s all done electronically through email, so I assume no human eyes ever actually review my info. If they do, I’ll bet they’re pretty damn bored, and certainly they’ll find no wiggle room in my tax situation for anything nefarious. The joys of being a boring person who mostly lives within the law…

The government shutdown continues! And it’s now the longest in history. Zach has managed to go to work each day, and not throw a stapler at anyone, or set any part of the building on fire, but it’s disconcerting to be required to work when you literally get a paycheck for zero dollars at the end of the week. Good thing we had a little saved up for our move, or else we’d be on the cat food pretty soon. We’ll survive this. And it’s interesting to see what happens when the wheels of government get jammed up just this thoroughly. I’ve read that it’s hard being a prison guard when the prisoners know you aren’t getting paid.

It’s a beautiful morning here! And it’s cold, and the heat has stopped working in our apartment. I know that when the heat goes out, you call the landlord and they send someone around to fix it, but for various reasons--frugality, Zach’s distaste for strangers coming into our apartment while we’re gone and touching our food with their penises, etc.--we haven’t told the property management about our predicament. It never gets that cold in the apartment, and we like knowing that we’re saving lots of money not running the heater when we can just Jimmy Carter (wear a sweater!) our way through it. You know what we did instead? We got logs to burn in the fireplace. The fact that it’s in the 30s outside and our heat isn’t working makes it the only time when it doesn’t suck to have a fire going. Problem solved.

So now it’s Sunday and we have a fire going and we’re listening to Sunday morning jazz on our local NPR station. Best time of the week. We’re skipping traditional breakfast tacos today because we’re enjoying the fire so much. Also because of the whole Zach’s paycheck-free existence thing, too. I’ve already had one friend offer to help us financially, if it becomes necessary. (That’s a damn good friend, obviously!) I thanked him, a lot, and said I thought we’d be okay. My prediction at the time (this was last Thursday, I think) was that the shutdown would be over by next Tuesday. That’s when I thought the president was going to declare an emergency to get the border wall built. Now he’s not declaring one, so now I don’t know when it’ll end. Good thing I don’t have a sick kid, or worse, one who’s college bound.

My fondness for weekends exists for moments like now. The only plan I have for today, since I spent yesterday doing all the chores, is to do some reading. I’ve also found an interesting YouTube video I’m going to watch, featuring the actual radio communications of a female student solo pilot having a problem. The video just shows the radar image, but the audio is pretty compelling, because this female solo student pilot, while taking off, lost her right landing gear. The video starts off pretty interesting; ground control calling up to the young woman and telling her, “Yeah, looks like your right main gear kinda came off, there,” and the obviously freaked out pilot, who was sobbing, but, to her credit, was also doing the most important thing one must do in such a situation, which is to keep flying the airplane. The title of the video describes it as a successful landing, so...not sure if that’s just for a given value of “successful,” but if she got it on the ground and was able to walk away from it, that’s what I’d call successful, especially if she’s a solo student pilot.

And now the radio is playing Miles Davis! You know, it feels slightly incorrect, listening to jazz on Sunday morning. It seems like jazz is more for Saturday night. Would one be putting his soul at hazard to listen to the devil’s music during church time?

I hope it doesn’t seem like I’m sending you lots of letters about nothing. I’d love to tell you about how I was flying my F-15 but had to punch out because of heat-seekers, landing in the courtyard of the Kremlin, killing Vladimir Putin, except I’m almost never in a position where I can truthfully say that. I guess the idea is for you to see what I’m doing and thinking about, day to day, because that’s what makes up who I am. That illuminates for you, in as forthright a manner as I can think of, the moments that make me. Unfortunately, my agenda for the coming week amounts to little more than work, sleep, repeat. I am driving around with an expired registration sticker; so perhaps some sort of police incursion is in my future! I’ve paid for the sticker, I’m just waiting for it to show up in the mail. I probably won’t ever be pulled over, though, because I’m a beige man in a beige car, driving beigely.

6 January, 2019

Dear Dad--

Happy Sunday! I have a lot to complain about this week, so I’ll try to make it interesting.

Zach works for the IRS, which means he’s affected by the government shutdown. And he’s impacted in the worst possible way; he’s been deemed essential (just by being very good at his work) and therefore is being made to work without pay! This means he can’t draw unemployment, like all the other furloughed workers can. He has to keep showing up at the IRS every day, there’s just no guarantee he’ll ever get paid. When a shutdown ends, Congress has to vote to give back pay to those affected, and we know how well Congress is working right now.

This is making several things difficult. It’s hard for him to motivate himself to go to work every day--because it’s the IRS, for chrissakes--as it is. Now that he’s getting no help and no money for it, the urge to flip a table in anger, and then set the place on fire, is growing exponentially. Meanwhile, if he doesn’t get the paycheck he’s supposed to get this coming Friday, he’s going to have to start drawing on the savings he’s amassed to help us move out of Texas. If the shutdown starts siphoning off our move money, he’s just going to start hitting himself. He does that sometimes, when he’s really upset with himself.

This also means he won’t be able to do much for my birthday this year, which, for me, is barely even a letdown, but it makes him crazy with anger and self-loathing. And that’s just not fair to him. My birthday is not important; his mental health is more important. Can’t exactly tell him to just lighten up, either. That doesn’t seem to improve things any. He puts pressure on himself, and can’t resist feeling like he’s failed, even when a failure had nothing to do with him. It also means we may have to scrap our plans to move someplace else when our lease is up here in May. Might have to stay another 6 months, trying to pay rent and save money at the same time. This only really works if we start ignoring things, like medical care that we need, dentistry, car maintenance, etc.

It’s not all doom and gloom. Tomorrow is our 5th anniversary, so we’re having dinner at an Indian restaurant called The Clay Pit with Stacy and Eric. I don’t go there because I love Indian food. I go there because they have a dish that’s literally the best thing I’ve ever tasted in my whole damn life. It’s called Khuroos-E-Tursh. It’s little medallions of chicken stuffed with spinach, onion, and other stuff, covered with an almond/cashew cream sauce. It’s weird, when I smell it, it reminds me of the way Grandma’s house smelled. I’ve been to this place a dozen times, and it’s the only thing I ever get. As far as food goes, it’s quite the small miracle. And, despite the fact that it’s one of our favorite fine dining experiences, the entrees are only about $15 each, so it’s not like I have to sell a kidney to afford it!

Not much else to report here! Oh, I did watch some football last night. Zach had gone to bed, and the Cowboys were playing their wild card game against the Seahawks. I figured I could watch because I didn’t care who won (I like Dallas, and I like Seattle) and now the Cowboys are going to the playoffs? I think that’s what’s happening. I think I also read the Houston Texans are doing well. I’m conflicted whenever I watch football. On the one hand, most all of them will probably lose their minds at about age 45-50 from all the concussions. On the other hand, it’s kind of beautiful to watch. Guys making decent money to run into each other at top speed.

30 December, 2018

Dear Dad--

Happy almost New Year! I hope you had a good Christmas. Mine was excellent! And for some reason, I’m proud of the presents I got! This is mostly due to the fact that I’m asking for better shit than I did as a young adult. As an example, there’s a book I put on my wish list by a Soviet-era Russian named Stanislaw Lem. The book is called ‘Solaris,’ which is a science fiction book about a planet that humans visit, and the planet does...well, let’s just say it communicates in a very weird way with the human explorers. I expect this book to be tough to read! It’s complicated. It has a pretty complex central concept. It was written in the U.S.S.R. and it’s been made into a movie twice. I’m proud to have received this book!

Books are special possessions, obviously. Another thing on my wish list that I received for Christmas was a book stand. In case it isn’t obvious, it’s a big square of wood, with a 2” lip at the bottom to rest a book on. And it has a little adjustable metal finger on each side, with a soft rubber tip, to gently hold the book open. It’s like a lectern, or music stand, but it just sits on a table and holds a book open in an artful fashion. It looks great, and has increased the gravitas of my living room by an astonishing 14%! (If I put my nice Bible on there, that’ll add another 8% just on its own.) Then someone comes into the apartment, sees my open Bible displayed on my new book stand, and automatically they know I’m a good person, and they won’t steal my shit. Ha-ha!

Since I just finished being in that temporary period of not being poor, I was able to take care of a few things I needed, like getting new shoes for my special orthotic inserts, and new prescription sunglasses. I found an outfit online that will make prescription glasses for as little as $25, and I needed some, so I got some prescription shades. Makes me feel quite the big shot. “Yes, these are sunglasses. And yes, I can actually read road signs while I have them on. Now go away, serf, or I shall taunt you a second time.” I’ll include a pic of me with the new specs.

Not too many other bits of news, except a few things I may have mentioned in the past. I have a nasty toothache, so I’m going to get an appointment Monday to see the dentist. Until then, I’m surviving on ibuprofin, goosed occasionally with Vicodins I had left over from the gallbladder removal surgery. I had a funny reaction to the pain pills one day last week. I tried contacting my dentist about it last week, but I suppose they were closed for the week, and I never heard back. About Thursday of last week, the toothache had been particularly unpleasant upon waking up, so breakfast that day was coffee and Vicodin. Then, when I got to work, I felt really high. (Perhaps the opioids knocked loose a chunk of THC that had been stuck in my brain somewhere.) I don’t normally feel high after taking pain pills; I just feel less pain. (I’m grateful for both of those things. I don’t want to start taking them for fun, I just want my stupid tooth to stop hurting.) But on this particular morning, I just felt really stoned. Good news is, I didn’t have to take phone calls that day, and my work productivity was good, because I wasn’t distracted by a whole Viet Nam in my mouth because of this stupid bad tooth. I’ll be happy when it’s fixed.

Zach is well. Samuel L. Jackson, Cat is well. Stacy had a decent Christmas, as far as I know, except that she was sick with something that might have been strep throat. That had to be unpleasant. Oh! I was able to give her the three art things I had made for her. First was a small canvas showing the solar system, then a thing like a snow globe with glitter, but applied to a canvas, like it had been exploded. (You’ll have to take my word for it that this was an attempt at “art.) And one last canvas that was a grid with samples of all the materials used to make the other gifts. Last year’s painting was the one I made of her cats and her snakes. We Weidmanns do love our pets.

It’s cold here today, so we have a fire going in our little fireplace. I have to admit, it feels a bit foolish paying money for wood that I’m going to burn, but I found some cheap firewood at Lowe’s, of all places. I get regular wood and then I get a box of these things called Enviro-Logs, which are made out of recycled waxed cardboard, which is used in things like cake boxes. They’re Duraflame logs for liberals, I suppose. I’m trying to convince my kitty that it’s nice and warm in front of the fireplace, and he’s just not having it. He flees from the fireplace like it’s the vacuum cleaner. Sam can be a dumbass.

So, for the coming week, I have work tomorrow, which will be dead, because it’s New Year’s Eve, so therefore nice, because it’s easy money. We have no plans for New Year’s Eve, other than attempting to stay up till midnight. Even if one doesn’t have a party to attend, it’s still fun to be awake when it turns the new year, because everyone in town starts setting off fireworks illegally. (If you’re asleep when this happens, you might wake up in the process of hurling yourself to the floor to avoid what sounds like gunshots.) Then, once the fireworks get going, all the dogs get barking. Then the sirens come, looking for the miscreants who set off the fireworks, and hopefully no one’s apartment burns down.

If my apartment burns down, I’m covered. I assume my renter’s insurance through State Farm will then swoop in to write me a big check, so as long as me, Zach, and the cat make it out of the fire, we get rewarded with all new stuff! It’s the little dreams that sustain one over time.

23 December, 2018

Dear Dad--

Merry almost Christmas! This will, regrettably, be another short letter. Ever since I woke up this morning, the depression has been kicking my ass. I’m going to keep doing fun stuff until I get past it, but I’m temporarily in that hopeless/worthless/infuriated phase of the depression and haven’t shaken it yet. I suppose some of it is Christmas-related stress. I’m trying to address that by buying a last minute gift, talking to Stacy and making a plan for Christmas Day, etc. It’s coming together. Looks like I’ll get to see Stacy on Christmas, which will be awesome!

Since Zach works for the federal government, his job is impacted. The really fun part is this: He is considered valuable enough of an employee (by virtue of his productivity) to be essential, and therefore still required to come work. However, it seems like there may be no mechanism by which he can continue to get paid for the duration of the shutdown. It’s therefore preferable that the shutdown ends as quickly as possible, and it already seems likely to extend through next Thursday, at least. We have saved money, so we won’t starve or anything; it’s just a big pain in the ass.

I’m doing well at my job, and I’m doing some walking after work. I’m continuing walking, even though it’s exercise! Still waiting to see if it has any impact on my blood sugar or my overall health. Still taking my pills. Car’s running well. Our plan to move is humming along. About the only exciting thing that’s happened lately is that we got a letter from the Bastrop County Jail, but the letter is not for Zach or me; it’s for some previous (female) tenant of this apartment. I take that as good news: I continue to be unincarcerated for anything! Score :)

So! Tomorrow, Christmas Eve, I have to work. Shouldn’t be too busy in the call center, since it’s Christmas Eve, but the thing is, it may be VERY busy in the call center, because it’s Christmas Eve. Just depends on how many people have accidents and feel the need to report it to us immediately. Hopefully, it won’t be bad, and they’ll let some people go home from work early. If not, my gift to myself will be staying at work and getting paid more.

16 December, 2018

Dear Dad--

Nine days till Christmas! Can you believe how fast it’s going? I’m having an excellent holiday season so far. November and December are just the best. Actually, now is my favorite time of the year. Christmas is nine days away and I’ve received my annual bonus, so I’m temporarily unpoor. Yay for temporary non-impoverishment! Here’s what I’ve done with it so far, which is by far the most interesting to happen to me within the past week:

Got myself new shoes! Because my ankles are so fucked up, I have those custom orthotics that go in my shoes, which means I have exactly one pair of shoes I can wear. And the current ones are about a year old, which is bad. The orthotics can’t do their work if the shoe is too broken-in. Getting new shoes could rid me of a significant amount of pain. Naturally, since it’s a medical expense, my insurance doesn’t cover any of it. They're in the mail.

Got myself some prescription sunglasses! I can’t wear regular sunglasses, because then everything’s prohibitively blurry, so I had little clip-on sunglasses that attached to my regular glasses. Then those died by getting run through the washing machine. Now I’m just going to have a nice pair of prescription sunglasses, so I can wear them with a suit, and look dashing. And be able to see. They're in the mail, too.

Got Christmas presents for Zach. I know it’s weird that we each get the other a bunch of presents. But we like it that way! We like the giving, and the pile of gifts (dressed in paper and ribbons that match the color of the Christmas tree lights) under the tree, and the receiving and owning of new stuff. Some here, some still in the mail.

Got ahead on a few bills.

Ordered a fruitcake from The Collin Street Bakery. They’re in Forth Worth, I believe, or Corsicana, and they’re the Rolls Royce of fruitcakes. They’re amazing and sweet and dense and fruity, and a single slice on top of your car can keep it from blowing away in a tornado. The fruitcake is...wait for it...in the mail.

My personal vehicle, Beige Lightning, needs its inspection and registration.

And wouldn’t you know it, one of Zach’s presents just appeared at the front door. (Zach, if you ever end up seeing this letter, stop reading now.) I got him a Zippo! When I searched for Zippos on Amazon.com, it suggested I look in the “Health, Household, and Baby Care” section of the website. I rather doubt that’s the way they wanted to categorize a lighter. And I’m not sure what Zach wants it for, either. He doesn’t smoke cigarettes or joints, and they suck for lighting candles. But he mentioned wanting one, so...I got him an orange Zippo. Getting older, with slowly deteriorating eyesight, has taught me the value of small personal items (lighters, mp3 players, USB drives, etc.) being brightly colored for greater visibility. I’m still getting used to having a black cat who turns invisible when he rests on our living room chair. I keep making Zach panic by almost sitting on the cat.

And that’s not fair, dammit, because I’m not going to hurt the cat by sitting on him. It’s a very soft, overstuffed chair, and he’s a very supple, malleable kitty. Plus, sitting on a live kitty (especially a sociopathic asshole like my Sam) is startling as hell, and tends to make me sproing back up off the chair quickly. Easy solution: I always sit down slowly. If the cat is there, he’ll sense I’m about to sit on him, and he’ll get up and wander off. He’s sleeping next to me now, with his head resting on my mouse pad.

Okay. Gonna spend today listening to the third book the Girl with the Dragon Tattoo series, while doing chores, finishing up my work on Stacy’s Christmas thingies, and running around with a four terabyte hard drive, backing up all the new videos and jpeg art I’ve saved in the past couple of months. Techno pirate! Yarrrr!