Strangely Strange Times

So, I'm the only one who knows my boss is hitting the road, and I'm covering for her while she makes her escape from the state.  For various reasons she can't risk letting the office of Mr king maker know just yet.  Back stabbing and intrigue in the Chicago office complicate the issue.

Further complication is that I think I want the job.  To push now would only hurt me and my friend, the current house manager.  So, I bide my time.

On top of that is the problem that physical issues have limited my activities, although I'm doing my best to work around that, and maybe it is improving. I'll see the doctor on tuesday to see what's up with latest blood tests.  I suspect maybe the tests will be about the same as before.  If it is just a nebulous journey into the halls of money sucking medical institutions, I will withdraw from the process and decide where to go from here.

I'm not happy with the way I always place myself in self imposed isolation wherever I go.  I will find people who find me of some benefit and do what I can there.  Being useful to others seems to put me in a better frame of mind and I forget my sadness when in the thick of such efforts.

Sun Tan Therapy

The one consistent thing that I found in researching the relief from aquagenic pruritis or cholinergic urticaria is UV rays--tanning beds, sunshine.  I'm opposed to tanning beds.  I don't like the look of them of the places where they have them, if they still do.  Maybe in California it is illegal.  No telling.

However the naked place down at the edge of the desert is legal.  All kinds of ugly people just going about their business without garb.  That could work out just dandy.  I have no problem worrying about naked people I don't know viewing me in the buff.  I'll do whatever to alleviate this issue.  Besides, I like swimming uninhibited, and they have pools and more there.  And it is cheaper than professional UV sessions.  Worth considering.

They play water volleyball too.  We'll see.

I found that I can do a little swimming safely, as long as I have access to ultra hot shower afterwards. Last week I had to spend the entire week in Obamaland where I work.  There was a project to rework much of the AC, and the house manager asked if I could be there.  I had things I wanted to do there anyway, so I did it.  At the end of the day I tried the hot tub/spa to see what would happen.

All seemed OK mostly, as long as it was at about 104 or 105F degrees, and I stayed by the jets.  Then after a few minutes in the pool, I could tell the itching wanted to begin, although it was not overly insistent or urgent.  Too long and it would have come on strong.

So this is good.  I find that I can swim again, for awhile.  I still feel messed up in my gut, right at the base of the sternum.  And I have a sudden big belly, but I can sometimes swim.  The week was OK; not creepy like other times I've been there.  Or maybe the creepy aspects didn't bother me this time because I did not care if ghosts ate me or someone shot me.  Nothing happened so why worry.

They took some more blood for testing and I talk to Mr. Doctor on the 29th.  I'm thinking I'm sick of this whole thing and how it is affecting my life.  If he has nothing earth shattering to say, or even if he does, I may make radical changes.  If I wasn't so exhausted all the time, maybe I'd do things differently.

Then again, maybe the exhaustion is only mental anguish and loneliness manifesting itself from psychosomatic causes.  Fine with me.

I wonder if laying around in the high desert in the buff will win me friends and make life beautiful.  Probably not.  At least I still don't smoke, even though I often think it would be swell.

I used to always think, "This time I really am at the end of my rope".  Now I think the rope is long gone and if I'm lucky maybe I can touch the shadow of the long gone rope that I was once at the end of.  I'm leaving the preposition at the end.  There are times when it is clearer to do so.

It Will Take Awhile

There are some things I think I'd rather let sink in before discussing.  Not about me, so nothing like that.

It was a nice night at Crest Community center.   People have a good time there.

They were surprised that I was impressed with her driving.  The women in that family can drive.  Simple as that.  Most of them, anyway.   I'll miss those two now.

Playing Crest, again

These are seriously trying times.  Those probably were too.  I tend to find most times trying.  That is the result of being too dumb to live it the way one should for all these years.

Anyway, I've been less and less interested in playing and being in the same settings I've haunted where people play over and over, Neil Young, Eagles, protest nostalgia, etc.   I never was philosophically on the same page with the 60's people.

Some of it was me, for sure, but much of it was and is not.  Just like I know the banking world is corrupt and entwined with government, but I am not in line with the Occupy crowd.

Not everyone sees the same solution, even if they do agree that certain circumstances and things constitute a problem.   Climate and weather, for example.  Even if I believe it is changing and things won't be the same or static, my idea of how to deal with it probably does not revolve around taxation and turning resource management and control over to officials and agencies.

Others look at it differently.  If they have a family and and spouse, why would they look at it at all???  Unless they are dishonest crooks and con artists who thrive on such things.  But there is not much else worthwhile beyond raising a family and doing what you can for them.  One who finds none of that in his life very well realize all else is insanely empty.  And that leaves little.  Like you were never there at all.

they often have tables, chairs, and people in here

Had to do screenshot off the Crest newspaper site to get these.  Don't think the site is working optimally 

Tonight we play, but not too much.  Three acts rotating every 15 minutes, approximately.  I'm only pumped because it forces me to be somewhere and not alone.  I'm walking that edge again.  Or maybe not.  I still try to tell myself that I have not always felt like this, so much of the information streaming in my mind is either false narrative or hyperbole.

Maybe playing will be OK.  Lately I've found it difficult, so I have to fake it and mask my failings as they arise.  It is not always much fun.  It does keep me busy for minutes at a time.

I have nothing to say about much.  Ever get a glimpse of your life and wonder, in horror, why you are in it?   I'm trying everything, believe me.
...

Oh yea, I have been asked to dwell at the resort house from tomorrow, Sunday, until Friday.  Sounds good but is a big inconvenience.  I'll not be getting paid every hour but I'll get paid.    Projects going on and someone needs to be there early, late, and sometimes in-between.  Plus I have some projects.