Two little gods

Another uneventful day.  I was hoping to receive a 1099 today so I could finish my taxes and e-file it.  No luck.  I also got a letter from Aetna saying that Melissa's erstwhile doctor hasn't sent them some medical files and that they need them by the end of February.  Melissa has always had trouble getting this doctor's office to send or fax things.  I remember picking up some papers and I ended up faxing them myself.  So Monday, I'll call Aetna and see what it is they exactly need, and then I'll make a beeline to the doctor.  I feel a mix of annoyance and anger.  This was Melissa's personal doctor who didn't find the cancer until it was too late.  He's a nice guy, but when one goes to the same doctors pretty much every week, you'd think that early detection would be a given. 

 Don't get me started.  I know that it's a human thing wherein we place blame on someone because having a face it far easier than stupid adages like "things happen" or "it is what it is."  Lord knows  there's another randomness in daily living where our ticket could be punched the second that a car runs a red light and plows into us.  I remember a story about John Glenn's almost dying from slipping in a bathroom.  Here's a hero who went into space and he was almost done in by something mundane.  I guess there's a benefit to using a vacuum cleaner hose to wash yourself.

I downloaded a couple of ebooks from the Cleveland Public Library.  A book on Spanish verbs and Freakonomics.  I don't think I'll spend much time here reading either book.  I just don't have the patience to read books on the 'puter.   (One word for you: Kindle!)  I prefer having a real book that I can take with me and hold and reach for.  That's what I grew up with; that's my wubie.  Still, I'd kill for an iPhone or a netbook.  There are plenty of times when I grow bored with the used paperback in front of me and I want to read sports news or something.  And I almost never haul my Dell laptop to the coffee house like most of the people there.   I don't think that this my rejection of bathos as much as my being lazy.  So you can see how a small netbook would help.  

I keep thinking that Melissa is on vacation, that she's here in the house when I'm at the store.  I keep reaching for my cell phone to call her to see what she'd like for dinner.  I'm afraid that I won't be able to break out of this silly habit until I was somewhere else, somewhere that doesn't look like Cleveland.  Unfortunately, in this part of the country, everything looks like Cleveland.

I've been reading Craigslist.  Not the jobs (those are bad) but the apt/housing.  I look at the ranger of prices and if they allow pets.  I don't need a house but I'm afraid I might have to rent one just so I can have a place for two cats and one or two dogs.   I suppose I should land a job first and then worry about the abode.  I just wish that winter was ending.  The gloomy days and snow-dirt covered roads depress me worse than the Yankees winning another world series.  I am so cold inside.  This is so not me.

I got a kick out of the Pope's uncommunicating that Holocaust-denying bishop.   Maybe he can re-admit someone who believes that the earth is flat and that the moon is made out of cheese. 

Assets

My brother might have a new job.  If so, I have to drive him to C-bus.  I've driven through Columbus plenty of times this past year on my way to, well, Central Illinois.  Hopefully he'll be able to take Mr. Poopy with him down the road.  Being the new owner of a big golden doodle has been weighing on my head.  Annie really was Melissa's dog and having one and possibly two dogs impacts the places where I can live.  For example, I can't go to my mom's tiny apartment with two dogs and two cats (oh yes, there are two cats although they're pretty independent).  Maybe rent a house or duplex?

I got my second W2 today.  Just one small 1099 to go and I can e-file my taxes.  Some years I do the taxes for a zillion people.  Maybe I was a tax accountant in a previous life or maybe I want to get the most mileage out of Turbo Tax.  Turbo Tax is the only software product I buy each and every year.  I have a box of old TT versions from the time I got audited by the County of Cuyahoga aditor.  (Ten years ago I had an employer that didn't withold city taxes and I got stuck with the bill.  I have learned that it really doesn't matter who screwed up: The Man always gets paid.)

We went to see "Taken" this afternoon.  It was good if somewhat predictable.  The trailers for a couple of new movies (e.g., Crank 2)  had a better impact than another give-me-back-my-son/daughter action flick .  Although most of the movie takes place in Paris, no-one spoke French.  Not one word.   Er, pas un mot.

Every day is like Sunday

Today was uneventful.  I did get off my butt and go to the gym.  I skipped the machines and just did 40 mins of cardio.  One of the things that irks me is that the earbuds that my brother gave me are too short.   I hate cords and wires in general, and if they can get tangled up or caught on something, it'll happen.  Cords are my bête noire.   Still, I'd never be caught dead with one of those wireless cell phone thingies because no-one, and I mean no-one (think: naked woman) ever looks cool with one of those contraptions on one's ear.  Those devices remind me of an ancient three inch USB drives that could barely hold a Word document.

I should've gone through more of the stuff upstairs but I didn't.  I can't feel or sense any sort of resolution.  I talked to John on the phone and I might have some idea if the estate will have some money.  No money pretty much means I have to get outta Dodge PDQ.  Some money will definitely help.  For example, I might be able to get a storage place for some of this stuff.  That would be a good short-term solution.   Houses aren't selling here because 1. it's Winter and 2. it's Cleveland.   Things might improve in a couple of months.  Yeah, yeah, keep telling yourself that, pal.

I've been drinking mint tea. I usually don't like mint but for reason, this tastes good.   

Girly man

I think the Utah Jazz are underrated.  I think the Cavs would've had a championship by now if Boozer didn't take the run and run.  Still, it's nice to watch some decent basketball.  Yes, I know what I said about watching the game but I wanted try out these "adjustable" dumbells that my brother had in the garage.  I could've used these over the summer.  I haven't gone to the gym in a while, I also fizzled out on my diet, but I'll get back into the swing of things, I think.

I have no bloody idea what to do with all this Christmas stuff.  There are about 5 totes filled with ornaments, nic-naks, wrapping paper, stuffed animals, you name it.  I have a feeling that if I take them to Goodwill, they'll just toss them.  It's a very bad time of the year for this superfluous stuff, and if I ever get the money for a storage place, I might store them there.  Looking at all this stuff makes me sadder than sad.   I can't linger too long on these reminders because I lose it.  By losing it, I mean my legs wobble and I want to crumble on the floor.

I wish I had a treadmill because I think I have some excess energy thanks too that pot of coffee.  I got tired of making tiny (6-9 oz) cups of coffee in my Keurig.  Nothing like an old school brewer to get overcaffinated with.

Closing time

One of the things that really irks me is inconsistency.  There's a coffee house a few blocks from me called Gypsy Beans where I decided to walk to a few minutes ago.  Walking is something that I like to do except WHEN IT'S 14 DEGREES.  I finally get there and what do I see?  It's closed.  It's dark and the workers there are closing up.  Lovely.  It's not like there's much to do in this crappy neighborhood, especially WHEN IT'S 14 DEGREES.  For about six months, this place didn't bother to post their hours, and since it's fairly common to have "summer hours" or "winter hours,"  I usually take a gander.  Two words for them: sharpie + paper.    Their website says that Fri and Sat they close at 11PM.  Maybe that's 11PM Beijing time.

I have the Cavs-Jazz game on but I'm not interested in it.  Actually, I just like the distraction of noise.  In some alternate universe, I'm watching the game and I'm a member of society instead of pacing around frantically.   I don't want to be in the house.  I don't want to be here at all.

Flotsam

I have no idea why I'm blogging.  It's not like I have much to say.  I do think about writing long letters to friends,  at least I think about doing that, but I don't think I have the energy to do much these days. 

Thinking usually pales in comparison to doing.  A case in point: my brother has always thought that applying for a job was enough.  Um, no.  Any idiot -- myself being a prime example - can apply and even get an interview.  The only thing that counts is landing a job.  Talk is cheap.  To that end,  I'm doing what I need to do and meet with the lawyer next week and try to pay the bills.  The legal stuff isn't scary, it's the every day stuff.  For instance, today my brother and I took two boxes of stuff to Goodwill.  I stood there while they guy tossed various nic-nacs into big boxes.  He tossed out some stuff that was clearly junk/trash.  Almost everything was purchased by Melissa.  I gritting my teeth and tried my hardest to not get upset.  I wanted to cry and fall down on the floor.  My brother is immune from these sort of sentimental things.  

One of Melissa's friends/ex-coworkers called the other day to see how she was doing.  I had to tell her the truth.  She started to cry and cry and quickly hung up.  I feel like I need to call her back.  I feel I need to drive to the hair salon and tell Melissa's stylist that she's gone.   As long as I remain here - in this house, in this crappy city - a part of my thinks that she's on vacation.  Maybe she's down in Florida.  I know it's foolish but it hasn't really hit me.  Something is amiss.  It's surreal.  It's abstract.  I want my mom.

I wonder what's up with all the bananas.  I stopped at two supermarkets today and neither had yellow bananas.  All were very much green and immature.  I don't mind waiting a couple of days for them to ripen, but really green 'nanas usually turn a weird shade of gray.  I guess it's not banana season.

I got a call today about a job in Youngstown.  It paid 30k.   It was good for a laugh.  I offered some advice to the nice guy on the phone that a 30k programmer means that he'd only find a new grad with zero experience.  I don't think I've seen salaries that low.  I'd never hire a new grad for that little.   Even if it was a newbie, he or she would eventually learn that he or she could make 50% more without doing a thing.  I hate IT.  I hate the job pimps who lie because their lips move.