I should have known when I turned on George’s computer last night and a large popup for big black sexy mommas popped up on the screen. George has done this before so you think he would know better. Those big black sexy mommas had infiltrated George’s computer. I couldn’t help but smile and laugh.
“Just don’t let momma see all that,” George pleaded with me.
So I will be at George’s house for most of this afternoon reinstalling Windows Vista on George’s tortoise-like computer.
You know? I was sitting last night eating my lunch and I thought about how spectacularly lackluster this sandwich was that I was eating. It just didn’t have any flavor whatsoever. The mayonnaise was the sandwich's saving grace. Can they make sandwich meats and cold cuts that are actually meat and that also taste delicious? I would gladly pay two dollars or more for premium meats and not chopped, formed, bland, and congealed crap. I tossed what was left of last night’s sandwich in the trash and went and bought a delicious tuna salad sub sandwich from the deli. It was exactly what the doctor ordered.
George is having computer problems and was telling me about it when he arrived at work this morning.
“I keep getting unwanted popups and my computer will freeze,” George said with a worried looking furrow in his brow saying the popups were embarrassing.
“You’re downloading porn,” I told him. “That will screw up your computer every time.”
George didn’t disagree with my assessment so I agreed to come and look at it before work tonight before we head to DUI school. I thought is was interesting that George moved the computer from the main den to his bedroom and now I know why. It is probably going to mean a fresh install of Windows Vista for George's computer which will probably take two hours on his eMachines computer.
I walked to my front door from the car and could hear both Maggie and Caramel joyfully and loudly barking about my arrival home as they do every morning.
“How are my girls?” I asked with a warm smile as I opened the door.
Maggie was entirely ready for her sausage biscuits. Caramel is more subdued about such things. Subtle. They both have very distinct personalities. I got busy frying some sausage and cooking some biscuits in my toaster oven.
What do you do with one hour left before work and you are all dressed, showered, and ready to go with nothing to do? I have my iPod chock full of good and varied music I’ve downloaded lately. I leave the small Sanyo TV in my back bedroom on for the dogs the whole night at a lowered volume level and give them fresh food and water. I then turn my thermostat down to 72 degrees. I’ve already packed my lunch for the night which is two roasted chicken and tomato sandwiches, Pringles, and a can of V-8 juice. I also bought a new large thermos the other day with the intentions to bring warm, sweet and milky coffee in with me every night. One of these nights I am going to get around to actually preparing it and filling the thermos. I need to buy a drip style coffee makers with a timer to use instead of my ancient percolator. I am more interested in goofing off and wasting time tonight, though. Coffee can wait till later.
“When you graduate from DUI school, are you going to be able to keep your cap and gown?” I sarcastically quipped at George with a snicker after ducking to avoid a friendly blow last night as I carried him home.
“I am going to buy a t-shirt that says and all I got from therapy was this lousy AA meeting.” George replied, laughing with good-natured humor as well.
I was acting so silly last night that George asked me very seriously if I had a few beers or three. I swore to George that I was sober as a judge and that you can actually have fun sober as well.
“I am just high on life tonight!” I exclaimed further perpetuating the silliness.
It is certainly neat to have these positive feelings about life – not all dour and morose as can sometimes overcome me.
Charlie’s car is on its very last legs these days. Charlie drives a 100 mile round-trip to work daily. His current car has 230,000 miles (which is amazing for a Chevrolet) on the clock and is starting to have major problems. Charlie borrowed my Civic, after saying pretty please, to use for a few days until he can buy a new car. It was like having your very own child leaving the nest for the first time. I am very protective of my Hondas.
Today was grocery day which excited me, but mom was very, very early and in a more serious mood than usual thus ending any meaningful sleep for me this afternoon.
“I worry about you not getting enough vegetables in your diet,” mom told me with a look of dismay on her face.
“I get Helen’s vegetables she cooks every Friday,” I replied in my defense.
“Will you drink V-8 juice?” mom said after telling me that is not enough veggies in my diet.
“I love V-8 juice with Crystal hot sauce mixed in like a vegetable cocktail,” I told mom. “It is almost like drinking a bloody Mary without the alcohol. “
Mom left to go get V-8 juice, hot sauce and a few other items. I had actually forgotten how much I really love V-8 juice having not tried it in years. I like mine with Crystal hot sauce with an added dash of salt, and I ended up drinking two large glasses a moment ago.
I had trouble prioritizing what needed to be done at work it seems last night. My brain was working on slow-go mode after midnight after my initial pre-midnight rush of customers was over. My supervisor left me a whopper of a to-do list which usually pleases me. Last night it just completely stymied me. I thought I would never get all that work done before dawn. I did the display work first and then got busy organizing all our many, many countless video games in their cases. It was that work that ended up taking me about six hours in all to do which I was thankful for when all was said and done. The night flew by and the first night back at work after a nice day off is always hard on my concentration and motivation levels.
Tonight is George’s first night of DUI school out at the mental health center. I am just going to drop him off and have him call me when they are finished. Each class is two hours long. I told George I would go to the AA meetings with him if he decides to go since they all know me so well if he changes his mind. “Sometimes it takes a village,” as Hillary Clinton would say which also rings true with George. George certainly needs the motivation of a village behind him right now. I did run into Philip, the local AA patriarch, the other day in Fred’s Dollar Store and he gave me the hard sell on going back to AA as well along with a card to call him anytime I needed someone from the program. I don’t think he believed me when I sad I had been sober several years now.
I ended up mowing two lawns very late yesterday afternoon after all the rain and storms had cleared. Dad told me late yesterday evening that I shouldn't be mowing with the grass still so wet. He is probably right, but I wanted both lawns finished before the next day.
I am pretty good at wasting time these days. I would say I am bordering on being a mastermind on the subject. I grab me a Coke from the fridge, grab my iPad, and it seems like a few seemingly short hours later I’ve been goofing off on the Internet for hours and hours on end. George will laugh and say I am experiencing my version of a time warp. I also can get lost in music listening to countless songs as I browse the Internet in the wee hours of the morning. I have some Paula Cole songs I’ve listened to over 1500 times according to iTunes.
Mom did something very special for me last night. She brought me one of Merl’s Diner’s expensive catfish fillet plates. It was totally out of the blue, random, and that’s what made it all the more special. Merl’s was very delicious, if expensive, as always. I also love Merl’s hushpuppies as they are slightly sweet.
Some of my regular customers are already calling needing their lawns mowed. I was very glad they didn’t forget me over this cold of winter. I am going to spend some time doing maintenance on my riding lawn mover and I have a lawn to mow this evening. .
My future sure is looking much brighter these days. It’s about damn time something went right in my life. I have a lifetime of failed toil and struggle to show for it. In about a month my disability payments will end as well. Dad asked me last night if I was growing worried about it.
“It will be my emancipation proclamation,” I responded with total honesty and to his dismay.
All I really wanted was some of my dignity and manhood back or I wouldn’t have had to go so far and be so drastic – to have a life of my own that is not micromanaged by a loved one or significant other no matter what their intentions.
“I am going to have to go to two AA meetings a week for a few weeks,” George told me this morning as we stood outside and smoked. “I’ve got to get the chairperson to sign a little sheet saying I was there.”
I asked George if he is going to walk to the meetings as they’re not far from Mrs. Florene’s house.
“I am just going to sign the sheets myself and not go,” George told me with a conniving look on his face. “You know how much I think that AA is a bunch of bullshit.”
Does this sound like trouble brewing to you?
Today was my mother’s 65th birthday and it was a busy day for us all. Mom still doesn’t have a gray hair on her head just like her mother when she turned 65. Dad and I treated her to Red Lobster for dinner. Mom even let her hair down some and drank a couple of margaritas. I just have gotten home and pretty soon it will be time to go back out to work. I am certainly going to be functioning on a sleep deficit this evening.
“Have you seen that heavily bearded man walking around at night with a gigantic cup of coffee?” I asked Jim last night during his lunch break. “He was hanging out with me last night talking local politics. It was kind of like the blind leading the blind. I saw him walk through the store again tonight. I guess I wasn’t good conversational fodder.”
Jim Chuckled. “He’s seems to be a character of sorts. He’s got one of those Unibomber beards.”
“Where is he getting a gigantic cup of coffee at 4am in Walmart?” I asked Jim astonished.
“I think he brings it in with him which he is not supposed to do,” Jim said.
Because I was ready to pay for my cup of coffee, too! I guess I will just have to buy a thermos and bring it in myself as well because bearded man’s coffee smelled so enticing the other night.
The first thing I did when arriving home for work was to lay down for a second to rest after taking my shoes off and before getting breakfast started. I woke up three hours later after completely falling asleep. I had that groggy kind of drunk feeling that comes from sleeping too hard in a short amount of time. The dogs were all curled up around me asleep as well. We were just one big happy, sleepy family.
Mrs. Florene has already asked me if I could take George every night to DUI school next week. It is out at the mental health center in another town.
“Sweetheart, I am scared to death of driving so late at night after dark when my eyes are tired,” she told me last night.
How could I say no to that? It will give George and I some good discussion time as well. George is already saying DUI school is going to be like a three ring circus and he is probably right. The amount of money he is having to pay is highway robbery.
(It has been brought to my attention that I write about food too often. I will try to tone it down. That’s what you get when dealing with a food addict. Food is one of my few addictions left. I wrote this yesterday and just never got it published.)
“What are you doing today?” George asked me as I walked out of work very early this morning.
“Grocery day,” I replied with a excited and anxious grin. “I am making hamburgers and steak fries for supper.”
“I think I am going to sell my Caprice,” George then told me out of the blue almost nonchalantly which made me stop right in my tracks. “Do you think that would be a good thing?”
“Use the Internet to get the best deal and possibly Craigslist,” was all I replied to George, unaware if that was a good thing or not. He loves that car and it keeps him busy on his off time – always fixing it up, replacing parts, and cleaning it.
Personally? I didn’t tell George this, but it is a temptation he certainly doesn’t need. He has almost driven several times since he has been out of prison. He can use the money to pay some of the legal bills he has left. According to Mrs. Florene they charge him every time he sees his parole officer. He Is also going to have to pay for DUI school which is coming up next week and it isn’t exactly cheap.
Fast-forward to midnight last night. I had a young college aged man in the store last night all excited about NVidia's new latest and greatest computer video card to be released in a few days. It will cost from between $500 to $700 dollars per card. To be nice to the customer, I couldn’t tell him what I really thought – that all games these days are just first person shooters or war-games which just don’t interest me and totally bore the holy hell out of me. It is all the same game just different flavors of the same thing.
“Anandtech has got a preview video up on their website tonight,” the young man excitedly told me.
I know Anandtech very well from my gaming days. I viewed the video just to stay current with what is going on in video gaming technology these days. The graphics keep getting better and better almost to an incredible point, but the overall and basic games don’t change.
I asked Jim if he had played any video games when had walked into my department for lunch.
“Yeah, Pong,” Jim replied with a grin,
I burst out laughing and told Jim he was three decades or more behind the times.
“Were you asleep?” mom asked me very sheepishly over the phone this morning.
“Not yet,” I told her to assuage her worries. “But I will be soon. I am winding down to head to bed. I’ve already had my shower.”
Mom went on to tell me she has been looking for even better sausage biscuits for the dogs. She ran a small bag of “Aunt B’s frozen biscuits” to me last hour for me to try.”
I have to admit that they were just about as good as the biscuits you can get a McDonald’s. Mom was so very relieved and hoped the dogs would enjoy them. This dogged (no pun intended) determination about this biscuit crusade is how mom got through graduate school, raised three kids, and put dinner on the table every night on top of doing all that.
“I’ll get you a big bag tomorrow when I buy your groceries,” my mother said and then she got off the phone.
“What do you mean by that?” my father asked yesterday very intrigued.
I had just told him my brother was my moral compass when we were growing up. I would sometimes have trouble discerning right from wrong and Alex would guide me in the correct decision to make. Dad thought it was a very interesting thing to say. My brother had the morals of an Eagle Scout.
I sure wish work could generate enough good material for me to write a blog entry everyday. That would be so very nice and oh so easy. Alas, it does not for the most part. Last night was one of the slower nights in memory as well. I did have a good comedy moment last night, though. It was hilarious and pure comedy gold. This kind of thing drives middle-aged George crazy about young black youth everyday. A young back man last night was in my department and wearing those baggy pants that show your underwear and fall down below your butt. I was hoping that certain fad had passed as I hadn’t seen it in a while. He came walking through my department as his pants fell down to his ankles and he almost tripped and fell down. It took all my gumption to keep from bursting out with laughter. Oh, the price we pay for fashion. “Pull your pants up dude and put on a belt!” was what I really wanted to say accompanied by a chuckle. He wanted something as pedestrian as a bedside alarm clock. I hope he is not expecting to wear that attire to work or school. At least he will wake up on time.
Sitting outside on the porch with my Cokes this morning was an air conditioning and heating air filter which is not abnormal as dad buys me one a month. I thought it was for me until I got home and found out on the opposite side that it was well used and very dirty. Mom must have gotten mixed up. That is usually dad’s domain anyway. I will not dare call my mother about it today. She will go into a tailspin and try to go get the correct filter ASAP.
Dad came over just before work last night to “check on me and the dogs” and he wanted me to decide what Helen was going to cook today. It is a safe bet that I will pick something we all like as my father’s and my tastes are so similar. I wanted Helen to fix fried chicken, mashed potatoes, English peas/carrots, and biscuits. Dad was headed then to Kroger to buy the ingredients. Helen used to buy the food until Dad has gotten outdone with her as she will keep the change when she goes to the grocery store instead of putting it back in the grocery envelope in the kitchen drawer.
I clocked out on this beautiful spring morning and preceded to grace the vast grocery side of work with my presence (don’t tell anyone at work, but I much prefer shopping at Kroger even though the prices are higher). I was in foreign territory. I was also on a quest to prepare some of my father’s chicken salad for sandwiches. I have the chicken softly boiling on the stove right now with some salt, pepper, celery and onion for added flavor.
For some strange and odd reason I took a shortcut through the wine and beer aisle this morning. I usually steer clear of it. I noticed that they had Natural Ice Beer on sale for $9.99 and the price was so enticing. This was always one of my and George’s favorite beers as it is very, very potent and will totally kick your ass if you drink too many of them just like an alcoholic likes it. I thought about it for the rest of my shopping time when I was in there like a little devil sitting on my shoulder whispering temptations in my ear. I haven’t been so tempted to drink in what seems like years. I came within a micro second of putting that beer in my cart, checking out, and driving home and possibly ruining the rest of my life. I don’t have enough fingers on both hands to count all nasty and terrible scenarios that could have resulted if I bought that beer. I also don’t think I could get sober again if I succumbed to the temptation for the last time. People like me can’t have just one beer. One beer leads to many, many more that will follow which foretells lost jobs, poor health and general insanity. It is a progressive disease.
George had that 1000 yard stare again this morning. You could set off a stick of dynamite next to his face and he wouldn’t flinch. If I didn’t know better, I would think he is a shell-shocked soldier just home from a brutal and vicious war. Prison seems to have taken something away from him that I don’t think he will ever get back. He rarely talks about it as well. George needs his old carefree demeanor and jovial ways to return. Let’s hope time and a normal living environment will slowly bring the old George back.
“Have you met our new third shift associate in the produce department?” Jan asked me this morning with her usual bubbly and perky demeanor.
“I haven’t,” I replied with growing interest. “I am stuck back here in my little corner in electronics and it’s like being in my very own little world or microcosm.”
“I swear!” Jan said getting all excited and gossipy. “He looks like he is so stoned out of his gourd every morning. I am not kidding.”
I laughed goodheartedly and told Jan to look up Jim Breuer, the comedian, on the Internet when she got off. He was born looking stoned and half-baked as well.
The change to daylight savings time is something I never could get used to and I still cannot. Now, I am going in to work in the dark and leave work with just a faintest sliver of dawn on the horizon. It is kind of disconcerting and disorienting in a way. It is certainly nice still being light outside at dusk around 7pm to 8pm, though.
“Just what has your mother been buying you?” dad asked last night during a short visit.
I guess he was just stopping by to make sure I am still alive (or to meddle for awhile). Mom has been on a bedding shopping spree for a couple of weeks. I opened my bedroom closet and showed my father all the pillows and everything to make for posh bit of sleep every night,
“She even bought me another set of those Egyptian cotton sheets a few days ago,” I told my father. “But I needed them. I haven’t had new bedding in over a decade.”
“She had told me she almost got out of control,” my father told. “She didn’t spend nearly as much as I had feared, though.”
I will never be a supervisor sadly, or be in a position of leadership. I need someone to lead me like a drill sergeant leads his soldiers. I preferably need written directions on what do. I failed miserably at that University forestry job because I didn’t have enough direction or supervision of sorts. I was floundering in my office everyday unsure of what was next. The professors were all so scatter brained and competitive as well and would leave me on the sidelines. I never could grasp the concept of interoffice politics very well. I know that doesn’t speak very well for me or my character, but I’ve learned to know my limitations and I need some help sometimes. A little bit of supervision and some extra attention at work will go a long way to making me an awesome and productive employee.
I was overjoyed last night when I clocked in and had tons of work to do. “Now this is more like it,” I quietly said as I proceeded forward and looked at my to-do list list. I then began to put together a rechargeable battery display. These new Energizer rechargeable batteries claim to charge 150 times more than the old ones so I picked some up some for my camera. I also had lots of customers last night and the nightshift flew by. Blu-Ray players, Digital cameras, HDTVs, video games. You name it and we did it or talked about it all last night.
I still get very nervous operating the point of sale, though. It is my Achilles heel. What if an item doesn't scan? Did I give the correct change? I pray to the gods that the money in my point of sale registers out and balances every morning.
Oh well, I’ve replaced using the Internet at work to reading magazines in the wee dark hours of the morning. We have a big, enticing magazine rack just outside my department. I am drawn to it like a moth to a flame and try to justify reading by thinking it is a lessor of two evils as far as the Internet, reading magazines, and work goes. At 2am this morning, you would have found me propped up on my counter reading motorcycle magazines.
I clocked out this morning from what seemed like a completely never-ending shift and had a message on my Crackberry from dad about mom’s birthday on the 24th of this month. He is making plans for us to eat at mom’s favorite restaurant, Red Lobster. She will certainly enjoy that and I hope she is able to drink her a few margaritas as well since she loves those, but never lets her hair down enough to indulge very often. It is also mom’s 65th birthday and this means she comes off disability and goes on regular Social Security. This big and nice change brings with it no more worries for her about having her SSDI case being regularly reviewed every three years and the nervousness and worry it can entail. The every three year interview by the psychologist can be especially grueling and worrisome for us as they can ask some very prying questions. The last review I had the psychologist was fixated on the fact that I was able to stay sober without AA. He didn’t believe me and I thought I was going to lose my disability. Now? They can put it in their pipe and smoke it.
On grocery day today, I told mom just go get me the same ingredients as last week. She won’t let me go with her as she and dad say I entice her into spending too much of my disability money. I want some more of Janice’s vegetable beef soup which is the main focus for today. Mom also asked me if the Tennessee Pride sausage biscuits she got for the dogs were good. I profusely thanked her for doing that. It is extremely hard to find a frozen biscuit that actually tastes like a biscuit I have found. Most of them are like packaged cardboard in their texture and taste.
George has a favorite pizza with a unique twist. He loves Papa John’s thin crust extra pepperoni pizza and each bite is preceded by a dip in a cup of Papa John’s ranch dressing. I thought it would be gross and weird, but it is quite delicious after trying it at George’s request. Last night was also one of the few times George has gotten to ride in my newer Honda, the Civic. I mainly just drive my CR-V to keep the miles and wear and tear off my newer car.
“Your parent’s just gave you this car?” George asked with a look at the odometer and an air of incredulousness.
George started to goodheartedly call my father Daddy War-bucks and that I was spoiled until I reminded him Mrs. Florene bought him an almost new Buick a few years ago and she still pays all his bills. That knocked the wind right out of George’s judgmental sails. How does that old saying go? Don’t throw stones in glass houses?
As I was driving from my house to George’s house late yesterday evening, George asked me if we could go to a titty bar down in Columbus, Georgia next weekend. I told George that I didn’t think that would a good idea for someone who is on parole and trying to stay sober. The girls that work at those places are told to aggressively urge you to buy them one of their watered down and god-awful expensive cocktail drinks which is how most of the money at a strip joint is actually made.
I walked out of what was a slow night of work this morning to what I hope is winter’s last gasp. All our trees are leafing and budding out and I had my first phone call of the season to mow a lawn yesterday. We didn’t have a heavy frost, but the temperature was still hovering around freezing – cold enough for long johns and a heavy jacket if you were working outside. George was standing off to the side near the garden center smoking a cigarette and walked over when he noticed me walking out of the store. George seemed especially nervous this morning. I noticed he was fidgety and his hands were shaking.
“I don’t mean to pry, but when was the last time you honestly had a drink?” George asked me.
“Oh, it was about last June or July,” was my reply.
“Does it ever get easier? This not drinking thing?” George asked.
“You will still occasionally want a drink from time to time, but is does get easier,” I replied in all honesty and with the hopes to bolster George’s spirits. “You will gradually obsess over the urge to drink less and less. You grow to be less impulsive.”
George left me after finishing his cigarette and continued to bring in carts. I was worried about my friend on the drive home from work this morning. I was trying to think of “good” things we could do this weekend to take his mind off of drinking beer. George seems to ride this razor thin line between freedom and going back to jail. Personally? I have been amazed at how well he has done on parole. He is giving his mother the perfect gift a son could give – a gift of sobriety and calmness to their lives after years of substance abuse.
They're certain things you just do not say around Horsefly or you will bring down the wrath of the Charlie. Words such as Bowling Alley, Walmart and Kroger get his motor to running and he has to go then and right there. You basically have to drop what your doing and go, or there will be hell, as in a severe tantrum, to pay. Horsefly has also been known to try and jump out of a moving car when he doesn’t get to go once this process of the spoken word is underway. You just can’t say no or reason with him.
Mom can be similar in a way. You have to be very careful what you say in front her as it can set off a chain of events akin to a snowball rolling downhill. Things can also get very complicated at the drop of a hat.
I had made mention to mom this morning that I was going to try and find cheaper frozen sausage biscuits that would be easy to warm up for my pups in the morning. I want to come home when I get off work and not sit in the drive thru line at Mickey D’s which is always gangbusters at 7am. Mom then took it upon herself to look for the biscuits for the dog’s sake. Little did I know that mom went on a two hour, three grocery store crusade to find frozen sausage biscuits that were similar to McDonald's. I thought she was only going to be gone for 30 minutes and she showed up hours later. I am sure I will hear something about this from my father when he gets off from work tonight.
The Charlie Sheen addiction debacle has been interesting in a morbid sense and sad to watch unfold everyday. I see much of my own crazy past actions and reasoning under addiction in the man’s behavior. It seems we have a new, unique and interesting blunder each day as he parades himself in front of cameras, the Internet, and the whole world making a total fool of himself.
“I swear he is on crack cocaine!” George exclaimed as I was asking him about it this morning. “He has that crazy, cracked out look in his eyes and I saw it quite often when I was in prison.”
“I call him little Napoleon,” I replied to George with a chuckle. “He seems the master of his Goddesses (porn stars), his castle, and his domain. He is ready to go to war with CBS with lawyers on the frontlines. He also seems to be in one of those mean, arrogant, and defiant phases that often accompanies the later, ending throes of a very severe addiction.”
“At least you and I had the good sense not to father children with all that mess going on,” was George’s parting shot as he left to go get more loads of shopping carts in.
“Amen…” is what I said under my breath as George walked back outside.
I’ve gotten to where I don’t take my iPad or laptop into work with me. They’re just too very enticing to resist during the slow hours of the night and I have almost no willpower whatsoever when it comes to resisting goofing off on the Internet. If I need to check the weather then I will just have to use my smartphone. Twitter is also a big draw as well with all the New Zealanders busily twitting at midnight or later. I always have busywork I can find to do during slow times such as dusting and fronting shelves or stocking items.
I had a tough question last night from a fellow who was putting together a home theater.
“I have a switch on the back of my home theater receiver where you can set the impedance to 4 ohms or 8 ohms,” He told me. “How do you calculate the correct impedance for your speakers and receiver?”
I explained to him it has a lot to do with the size (gauge) and impedance of his speaker wires. I ran it by Derrick when he came in at seven and he told me I did a good job with such a tough question. The guy left after buying several expensive rolls of heavy gauge speaker wire.
I feel like I am going to jinx myself writing about this, but has anyone noticed the lack of crazy, oddball and capricious stuff lately in my life? I have settled into this quiet, serene and comfortable calm since coming off that antipsychotic. Dad says I am just cycling moods like my mother often does. I have to constantly remind him that he is a pharmacist and not a psychiatrist. Dad also about fainted when I told him my psychiatrist took me off Risperdal at my behest. I cringe every time he tells me I am schizophrenic and he often does.
I watched the Intellicast weather radar all morning on my Crackberry. We have an extremely, extremely impressive line of thunderstorms on the way – very characteristic of Spring in the South. They should be here within the hour and I thought I better get a blog post down the pike before it arrives. My power will most likely go out for an hour or two when it hits as it often does. There will be some serious sleeping going on after it passes here at Andrew’s Casa.
I am always amused by the fact that even though I am wearing my blue Walmart emblazoned smock people will still ask me if I work there. I smile and exuberantly say, “Why yes I do!” I hope they don’t think I am mocking them. It just amuses me. I had one customer early this morning asking questions about internet enabled televisions and I said I needed to do some more research on the matter. Apparently, you can pay for and stream Netflix movies without a computer attached to your TV. I just don’t watch very many movies so the option never appealed to me or caught my notice. It was one of those moments where I wished my first shift coworker, Derrick, worked third shift with me. He is a cornucopia in the department when it concerns answers to questions about electronics. I will smugly say I am a close second to him, though. He’s got over a decade of work experience behind him and I don’t, but I get better with every shift.
“When are the storms going to be here?” George asked me impatiently after he arrived to work this morning,
“Later this morning,” I replied unsure of its exact time of arrival at that moment.
In as long as I have known George, this was the first time I have ever observed him keeping up with abhorrent weather. He was hoping his supervisor or “Soup” for short as we call her would send him home early if the weather got too bad to work outside. I didn’t tell George that the storms would only last about an hour not to dash his hopes for an early escape from his daily responsibilities.
I was merrily eating some Cheetos last night on my break and completely cracked a molar. It was one of the most excruciatingly painful things I have ever endured. Tears poured out of my eyes it hurt so very badly.
“What’s wrong?” Jim asked around 3am. “You look as white as a ghost!”
I explained to Jim what was wrong and he very visibly winced – urging me to go buy some Oral-gel and OTC pain medications. That certainly helped some and I managed to make it home having left all that extremely excruciating pain behind me.
Mom and dad both made some phone calls when I rallied the troops this morning after work. One doctor called in some heavy duty pain medications and my dentist told mom he would work me in this afternoon to extract what was left of the tooth. I think this is the only time I have ever looked forward to going to the dentist in my life. The pain has been that bad.
“What do you think of this new iPad coming out?” my grocery clerk friend Jim asked me last night on his 3am break. He said he had been waiting all night to ask me about the matter.
“It is 33% slimmer and a half pound lighter, and still has a ten hour battery life,” I told Jim. “It seems that Apple has another hit on their hands. I am certainly excited to see how well it sales.”
“When is it coming out?” Jim asked.
“March 25th I believe,” I replied. “Apple is giving a $100 dollar rebate for those of us that purchased the original iPad recently and want to purchase and upgrade to the new one. You just have to have your original sales receipt.”
Jim said that was nice to know and that they certainly weren’t advertising that fact.
“One neat thing about it is that the new iPad has a dual core processor which is twice as fast as the CPU in the original iPad,” I added.
It is these little technical facts about things such as the new iPad that thrill my soul and make me daydream of greener pastures – certainly better pastures than I am already in. I am not going to trade in my old iPad, though. The one I have does just fine as an internet browsing/weather update machine which is its primary purpose for me.
One of the nicest things about cooking with a crockpot is the extraordinarily delicious smells that emanate from it as it cooks overnight. My stomach immediately started to grumble as I unlocked my front door and walked inside to the smell of slow cooked vegetable beef soup. The dogs were also so excited to get their sausage biscuits this morning as well. We were all just one happy family. I immediately started to preheat the oven to cook some cornbread muffins.
There was a message from mom on my answering machine when I walked into my computer room. She wanted me to call her to coordinate buying groceries today. I already had several recipes that I had gleaned from the Internet that I was going to try and cook in the upcoming days. I especially thought a creamy mushroom chicken and rice recipe looked delicious. I told mom on the phone that I would be glad to go with her, but she said dad says we spend too much when I go. I laughed. He’s probably right. I can get lost in the candy aisle or near the Krispy Kreme doughnuts.
My 2 terabyte hard drive is exhibiting the dreaded clicks of death. If you have ever heard a hard drive fail then you would know the sound all too very well. It is less than two years old. I just knew I would regret buying Seagate hard drives instead of Western Digital. And I was right. Go with the brand you trust and have used for years. I was just trying to save a few bucks with them being on sale awhile back. Well, that just gave me impetus to order a 3 terabyte drive a moment ago. Now, if my old drive will last long enough for me to get the data off of it and onto this new drive which will be here around Tuesday.
“Mom?” I apprehensively asked my hard to wake mother very early this morning over the phone. “Have I gotten my Cokes today?”
I honestly couldn’t remember if I had gotten them last night or not. I was crossing my fingers that I hadn’t. Mom sounded kind of loopy herself this morning as well to add the proverbial icing on the cake.
“I’ll go put them on the porch right now just in case you didn’t get them,” she replied.
I don’t think mom knew either so I guess we were just two peas in the same pod this morning. That made me feel much better about the whole affair. I was certainly glad to get home and drink my six colas. It was pure pleasure, heaven and bliss. I am an easy to please and low maintenance kind of guy in that way.
I was sitting on the couch with my iPad last night after midnight when Charlie called me.
“Do you want some sliders from Krystal?” Charlie asked. “They are the only fast food place open this late tonight in the Valley. And I knew you would be up. You and Horsefly both sleep during the day.”
Charlie soon arrived with a sack full of Krystal's as Horsefly sat in the running car. I was a supremely happy soul to get those little hamburgers delivered to me like that. I was far too lazy on my day off to venture out of the house for fast food even though I was craving it. I managed to eat all 12 of the itty bitty burgers.
My cousin Johnny who lived in Hong Kong teaching English for many years said he would have daydreams of eating the food at Rodger’s Barbeque – a restaurant which was on the other side of his world. He said one weekend he almost caught a jet plane back to the Valley so he could order two barbeque sandwiches and a pint of Brunswick stew. Folks, now that’s what I call dedication to your favorite restaurant and food.
Rodger’s is where I ate lunch today as well and Johnny immediately came to mind. I just wish they weren’t so god-awful expensive, or I would eat there more often. I did my fair share of people watching as I ate my meal and read an old-fashioned newspaper. I marveled that across the street we have two more Korean restaurants. Our Kia plant, which is Korean based, out by the interstate has poured thousands upon thousands of dollars back into the coffers of a little city that was almost dead. Downtown has been redesigned and rejuvenated, and new stores seem to open every week. This forebodes promising times ahead.
“Don’t mind us,” Charlie said as he laughed with Horsefly in tow as they walked up my front steps. “We’ve come to do our quality control check of your toilet.”
“How do you like it when your father’s best friend and his son come over just so we can see and flush your toilet?” Charlie then asked.
“I kind of wish I could develop an obsession with toilets,” I replied to Charlie whimsically. “Maybe then I would have never started drinking and obsessing over beer.”
Charlie and I then both burst out laughing.
Charlie doesn’t ever get a day off it seems. Saturdays are matinee time for Horsefly and a new plush toy. Charlie will take him out for dinner at Kentucky Fried chicken to get Horsefly’s usual chicken fingers and then they head back to the Valley.
“As much chicken as Horsefly eats, you would think he would start clucking soon.”Charlie added before they left.
I’ve had a few days to reflect and come down from the aftereffects the antipsychotic Risperdal imparted on me, my brain, and my body for years. The word ravaged comes to mind sadly but first and foremost. So many misguided souls in my life thought they were doing what was best for me. I guess that’s a case in point why they say the road to hell is paved with good intentions. My only noticeable and easily manageable withdrawal symptom at the moment is having a very busy and overactive mind at times. A simple quiet and reflective moment cures that, or a lie down on the bed when I am at home. I feel like my body is in slow motion and my mind is going one hundred miles an hour. It is a hard feeling to describe and it made me shy away from too much conversation or interaction at work last night. I felt kind of shell-shocked. I was glad to get into the quiet, but cold calm confines that was the interior of my CR-V this morning as I left work and drove to McDonald’s and then to my parent’s house.
Every afternoon lately I’ve had two or three backpack clad black boys sitting out in the front of my yard by the road using my Wi-Fi Internet connection with their smart phones. Maggie alerts me to their presence and then she eventually settles down thankfully. If she barked for the whole time they were out there then I would have to ask them to move along as it would drive me and Maggie crazy. They look to be about 10 to 12 years old. I asked my father if he thought I should password protect my wireless router last night. Sometimes they will sit by the road for up to an hour or more.
“I keep the wireless router at the pharmacy password protected. Tim showed me how to do it,” my father told me cautiously. “I would be worried they are looking for pornography or doing something deviant and you would be responsible.”
I kind of chuckled that dad would think of the worst case scenario. I don’t think the boys mean any harm and probably don’t have the Internet at home. I am almost tempted to walk out with them by the road and show them my iPad. It would also be interesting to see the Internet signal strength that far out from my house. Apparently, they are having no problems getting online or they wouldn’t be sitting by my boring mailbox for an hour or more.
Mom certainly is going strong these days and it’s good to see she has returned from the figurative dead – the exact opposite of her demeanor last week. This also puts her into the mood of spending money which dad will eventually have to temper. Normally, mom would lie in the bed all day until dad gets off around 10pm. She told me yesterday she just couldn’t bear to be alone in that big empty house for the rest of the day. She said Helen can also get on her nerves trying to direct her life.
“Helen means well,” I told my mother in Helen’s defense. “She just doesn’t want to see you waste your life away.”
Some of the things mom has bought for me this week…
“How much did the high thread count Egyptian cotton sheets cost for your bed?” I asked mom yesterday as she delivered more goodies.
“Don’t tell your father, but they were $80 dollars,” she replied as she visibly winced.
A moment ago, I was standing in my parent’s kitchen after getting my cokes off the porch talking to Helen as she was getting breakfast ready for mom and dad. You could hear dad taking a shower down the hall. Helen asked me to get the strawberry preserves out of the fridge and put a spoon in the jar, and then set the table for two. She was scrambling some eggs and frying bacon. A pan of biscuits was already in the oven. You know I had to have a peek at them to see if they were rising and turning golden brown and they were.
“Your daddy is getting me to fix one of your favorite foods this afternoon,” Helen told me with a smile.
“Macaroni and cheese?” I asked in happy anticipation.
Helen laughed and said that wasn’t too hard to guess. Helen makes her macaroni and cheese like my grandmother always made it. It is creamy, cheesy, made with love, and just downright plain delicious and oh so decadent.
That’s the best way to describe Jan, our night cashier's personality. It can be four in the morning and she will still be going strong. On top of working all night, she is a full time college student at our local community college. You’ve got to admire that kind of dedication. She told me this morning she is studying to be a nurse. I told her she would have impeccable bedside manners. I like her mostly because her happy personality is contagious. She lifts up the people around her.
George arrived to work at five this morning and was almost late clocking in.
“That was a close call,” George told me as he shook my hand and called me his brother in African American male fashion. “Momma doesn’t drive over 25 miles an hour.”
George seems to have that 1000 yard stare much of the time these days most likely due to his ordeal with being in prison which George will rarely talk about. He laughs less and takes things much more seriously. I have found the best way to perk him up is to talk about s.e.x. Now, that can get George going and laughing about that subject of interest.
I called Charlie’s wife yesterday wanting her recipe for vegetable beef soup. Dad says she makes the best soup in the Valley. One of the things about Charlie's wife is that she is painfully hard to talk to. Especially when it concerns small talk. She is socially aloof and it can be a person with social anxieties worst nightmare. Janice then told me she would email me the recipe in just a moment. I sighed with relief and quickly got off the phone.
Mom delivered my groceries around lunch yesterday. I was especially anticipating a quart and a half of chocolate ice-cream she was delivering. I rushed all my groceries inside as the weather was about to turn nasty.
“See those dark clouds on the northern horizon?” I asked mom as she nodded her head in agreement. “That means the shit is about to hit the fan weather-wise. You need to head on home after you leave here.”
A streak of lightning flashed across the sky with the subsequent boom and crack of thunder. Tornado sirens started to sound as the skies darkened further.
“Are you headed home?” I asked again warily and with a stern look on my face knowing my mother all too well.
“I’m headed home right now,” mom said with an unsure and almost guilty smile.
I watched as mom took a right at the end of my street signaling she was headed back towards busy highway 29 and not home. “Damn,” I muttered as I cursed under my breath and walked back inside.
An hour passed and I couldn’t get mom on her phone. I was sitting in the den with both of the dogs on the couch as mom came pulling into my driveway again. By now, the storm was long gone and a half-rainbow adorned the sky above my neighbors house. The pendulum has swung and mom is hyper again it seems. She stayed in the bed all of last week, but this week she’s out and about, and busy. She’s busy with linens, bed sheets, and comforters after Charlie got her stirred up over those high thread count sheets I got for Christmas.
“I got you a new comforter and pillows for your bed,” mom explained as she opened up her trunk. “Make sure it says machine washable.”
I couldn’t help but smile. When mom sets her heart on something not much is going to change her path or direction.
I had unintentionally left my Crackberry on while I worked last night – no doubt to keep up with the weather. Around 5am it rang and it was my mother. She just happened to be up and checking my and the dog’s healthcare calendars.
“You have a doctor’s appointment at 8 central time when you get off,” my mother told me.
“Damn!!!” was what I thought as I didn’t want to see my psychiatrist after working all night. It is a long drive down the interstate.
The psychiatrist appointment was routine. She is really pleased with my progress as far as setting family boundaries go. We removed the Risperdal and now I am on only one pill a day. My Paxil. I was very, very pleased at this turn of events. I’ve worked so hard to get to this point and to get so very far from that disgruntled soul taking 14 pills a day. I wasn’t sure if she wanted to wait another 3 months or not. Let’s pray to the Gods that be that I don’t go bat shiat crazy now.
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