Life in My World, or just shoot me...

First, I'd like to thank Jim for insights on Styrofoam. From personal experience, I still think it's more pleasant than old fiberglass insulation or sheet rock dust, though vacuuming it out of my hair does rank about 2 on a pleasure scale of 10 - it rates a 2, because if I'm actually de-foaming my hair, then there must be a temporary pause in the work... and it's not fiberglass.

Speaking of hair, I thought I'd knock the (ahem) few grays back a couple of years. Tried "Dark Mahogany Brown" - first time in my life my hair has had more of a red tinge than my mother's did, but... 'mahogany' on gray is more 'cherry wood red', if you get my drift. Which didn't blend well with the 'dark brown' brown of everything else on my head. Hair being hair, I don't get too excited, but I did have a meeting on Saturday and a survey case to catch. So... I mixed up half a batch of "Dark Brown" - worked pretty good, but there's still some two-tone going on.

I already know no one else really cares much. If anything, we're all just glad it isn't us if hair-stuff goes awry. But it adds to a crystal moment of insanity.

I was running a bit late getting out on errands after messing with some indoor/outdoor carpeting on the porch, and I wanted to run the survey case before joining the meeting. My tire looked low, so my first stop in town would be to check it. However, before I could leave, the cold temps and letting the car sit for several days meant I had to slap the battery charger on it - conveniently kept in the back seat. Luckily, the extension cord still worked, even though I'd caught it under the snow with the snow blower mid-week and had to untangle cord from machine. So the battery's charging while I'm running in and out getting organized.

Sera's stumbling around trying to get a grip on her day, I'm digging through stuff in the living room that still isn't reorganized after a new tube of superglue - the old one had dried up. Luckily, I found a new one, so I'm on my way to glue my front cap-tooth in place, tripping over dogs everywhere, when the cat starts upchucking on the couch. At which point, I yell for Sera to deal with the cat while I proceed to glue the post back in. I have a chopped-off sock on my elbow that took-too-much-abuse, my prescription reading glasses have the ear-piece glued with JB weld when they broke last fall when a piece of paneling knocked them off, and the dress slacks were too thin for the temps yet - long johns would be too bulky, but I'd found a pair of pantyhose -- except I hate nylon on my feet and they were tight, so I cut the toes out (nothing if not practical, that be me). With my hair in a few shades more than usual, but no grays.

But you'd never know it if you met me on the street! Obviously, because I had a few dudes 'jawing up with me' in the stores. (If they only knew!)

The day was a set-up. I got to the first station for air, which is a rip-off in that the machine is now 75 cents instead of a quarter. I didn't want to take time to see if other air compressors were working in town (freezing weather wreaks havoc on these) so I went in for quarters. After giving me my change, the clerk told me their compressor wasn't working - duh. So I went across the street and got air for free. I made some quick stops and beat it for the survey case; their driveway is under water and the gent said he was just leaving but I could call. So I beat it back into town.

The Meeting. It was an Eckankar group up from the cities, interesting bunch of friendly people. They use 'Hu' as the sound of God, which is okay with me. Except I was thinking of this on my way back from the survey case, and the radio kicked on "Who are you?" by the Guess Who. (Or "Hu are you?") That song always stymies me anyway - I realized some time ago I don't know who I am. I find it baffling anyone ever feels comfortable being their name - to me, it's like a superficial play, and for some reason, I have a sense that our truer names are both ancient and possibly sacred, as if we all have a bit of temporary amnesia going on while we're acting on this stage.

Anyway... I was delving into all these mental exercises while the Who sung on, and the very next song? "You're a dreamer..." Universal Gotcha. Got to the meeting where Sera was going to meet me, but she was leaving with Valleri and tossed off a quick, "By the way, the dryer's broke" as she left. We talked about dreams and experiences and lessons in life, though I didn't share the totally deep experience of everything being an illusion, including me and the drug I had used on occasion (never mind that).

What I do know is - my illusion could use an upgrade, and it's okay if I don't really know who I am. I figured that out awhile ago too - just knowing "I am" is enough, even if it, too, is an illusion. :)

So today I go to figure out the dryer, where Sera has the switch pulled off and nothing's happening. I go to get my pliers (and why isn't it 'plier' if you only have one?) and realize my hammer's missing, too. I zone in on the most likely suspect, call Sera and Valleri who are now at the laundromat, and am informed the Child was whacking things in the yard earlier. So... I go out looking for my tools, stop to stack the Styrofoam pieces and slightly tidy the yard, pop in my odd work shop... Which is leaking from the snow, since I didn't have time to properly seal it last year; the snow was coming down when I put that roof on. So I stopped to shovel off the small roof and chunk off the ice. It was thoroughly soaked inside, so I started drying it up - really good thing the extension cord still works!

Between times, I'd worked on a late assignment until 2 a.m., so I wasn't up to speed today. Made several calls to the survey client who is conveniently not answering and pottered about with less enthusiasm than usual. For some reason, the bottom glass is knocked out of the storm door; the house is ripped worse than usual; the porch isn't finished; my room isn't finished; the shed is soaked; my "How to Fix Damn Near Anything" book is out while I brushed up on dryer switches...

But I found my pliers. Twisted the knobby-thing. Nothing. Jiggled the plug. Twisted the knobby-thing. It worked. Crammed the little metal piece back into the knob, stuck the knob back on the machine, and finished drying the load that was started yesterday.

Val's home this week.

Yee-ha! And to think some people get bored!