The Horoscope And His Love Kennel
This is designed to make me feel better in this my hour of doubt. My horoscope today said quit being so hard on myself and look at my accomplishments, among which I include this writing, go figure. Bill once said in the breezeway at RedBarnFarm, while I laid in the hammock and someone else threw darts, "you are your own worst enemy." Ah, finally a nemisis worthy of my consideration, I gloat. The mixed bag of me. MeMeMe. The Self is a Lonely Hunter. I once spoke of the therapeutic value (self as psychiatrist) of this type of memoir. My brother, the criminology professor at that small Catholic school in Austin,TX. said in that case I should sue for malpractice. The medicine of humor, but even for a dollar (when dollar movies still existed in NO) I wouldn't go see that Punch Adams flick. I have few but definite standards. Feel me?
Instead of this I'm supposed to be putting my skills to the writing of the letter that is "just so" to that singular audience that is my plumber who is avoiding the completion of the Rocheblave plumbing rough in, this after almost six months, even though I originally played it as a "no hurry" kind of deal, due to the awareness of the singular slowness of my own one man renovation abilities, but now, or actually for the last two months or so, I have made it more that clear that I need him to get his diggers on my job and dig those two trenches (one for the outgoing sewage, one on the other side for incoming water).
All the copper water lines and black galvanized gas lines and the Central A/H ducts are in place, and the furnace is in the attic, and the PVC drainage pipes and vent stacks for the washer/dryer, kitchen, and, bathroom are installed, but without water in the pipes the inspectors won't inspect and until they do I can't insulate and sheetrock, which would put me at a point very close to move in.
Now the reason I'm not in full panic mode is because there is lots and lots of work I can still do, am doing, in the absence of this plumber. But I guess I'm just looking forward to that point when I really need that muhfuh and he playin' hard to get.
And my electrician sent me a bill for completion and then another one with an ever so subtle legal reference and I had to call and say, but you haven't completed (that would be trim out, the installation of switches and plugs and fixtures both inside and out, and ceiling fans, and trim for the recessed interior lights, which all obviously happens after the sheetrock is installed and painted), and his secretary was nice about it but never did she say, "oh, that bill was just a mistake, disregard it."
And for a pretty good while now I really have been working seven day weeks (only ever five at the paying job), sunup to sundown, and then, you know, there is that inner city populace infringement in my living quarters, actually just inches away from where I sleep, kids not doing homework anymore, just playing video games (even with the sound down it can still be intrusive, even though these are all the "good" kids). And then I kick them out just before the city imposed teenager curfew, have a few minutes of peace, and then get to play "dueling attitudes" with the "adopted" teenager, who is probably smoking weed now, but always makes it here for curfew, and apparently needs the representative angst of his rap music, "please put the headphones on" (but I often wait to tell him this after it has already pissed me off and turned me all edgy).
Even with the headphones on I can hear it.
I forget what it was I saw as my "accomplishments" this morning after reading my horoscope. I quit smoking two years ago though, and still pretty much count that as most impressive. Maybe some of this other stuff going on for the last year will look like accomplishments down the road.
What I want most right now is to quit thinking about my plumber last thing at night, and first thing in the morning, that kennel of time normally reserved for the objects of my puppy love.
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This is designed to make me feel better in this my hour of doubt. My horoscope today said quit being so hard on myself and look at my accomplishments, among which I include this writing, go figure. Bill once said in the breezeway at RedBarnFarm, while I laid in the hammock and someone else threw darts, "you are your own worst enemy." Ah, finally a nemisis worthy of my consideration, I gloat. The mixed bag of me. MeMeMe. The Self is a Lonely Hunter. I once spoke of the therapeutic value (self as psychiatrist) of this type of memoir. My brother, the criminology professor at that small Catholic school in Austin,TX. said in that case I should sue for malpractice. The medicine of humor, but even for a dollar (when dollar movies still existed in NO) I wouldn't go see that Punch Adams flick. I have few but definite standards. Feel me?
Instead of this I'm supposed to be putting my skills to the writing of the letter that is "just so" to that singular audience that is my plumber who is avoiding the completion of the Rocheblave plumbing rough in, this after almost six months, even though I originally played it as a "no hurry" kind of deal, due to the awareness of the singular slowness of my own one man renovation abilities, but now, or actually for the last two months or so, I have made it more that clear that I need him to get his diggers on my job and dig those two trenches (one for the outgoing sewage, one on the other side for incoming water).
All the copper water lines and black galvanized gas lines and the Central A/H ducts are in place, and the furnace is in the attic, and the PVC drainage pipes and vent stacks for the washer/dryer, kitchen, and, bathroom are installed, but without water in the pipes the inspectors won't inspect and until they do I can't insulate and sheetrock, which would put me at a point very close to move in.
Now the reason I'm not in full panic mode is because there is lots and lots of work I can still do, am doing, in the absence of this plumber. But I guess I'm just looking forward to that point when I really need that muhfuh and he playin' hard to get.
And my electrician sent me a bill for completion and then another one with an ever so subtle legal reference and I had to call and say, but you haven't completed (that would be trim out, the installation of switches and plugs and fixtures both inside and out, and ceiling fans, and trim for the recessed interior lights, which all obviously happens after the sheetrock is installed and painted), and his secretary was nice about it but never did she say, "oh, that bill was just a mistake, disregard it."
And for a pretty good while now I really have been working seven day weeks (only ever five at the paying job), sunup to sundown, and then, you know, there is that inner city populace infringement in my living quarters, actually just inches away from where I sleep, kids not doing homework anymore, just playing video games (even with the sound down it can still be intrusive, even though these are all the "good" kids). And then I kick them out just before the city imposed teenager curfew, have a few minutes of peace, and then get to play "dueling attitudes" with the "adopted" teenager, who is probably smoking weed now, but always makes it here for curfew, and apparently needs the representative angst of his rap music, "please put the headphones on" (but I often wait to tell him this after it has already pissed me off and turned me all edgy).
Even with the headphones on I can hear it.
I forget what it was I saw as my "accomplishments" this morning after reading my horoscope. I quit smoking two years ago though, and still pretty much count that as most impressive. Maybe some of this other stuff going on for the last year will look like accomplishments down the road.
What I want most right now is to quit thinking about my plumber last thing at night, and first thing in the morning, that kennel of time normally reserved for the objects of my puppy love.
- jimlouis 12-03-2000 1:21 am