Last Week in Fresburg
So work has slowed to a snail's pace, though today I have hopes things have picked up a little, enough to give me something to do besides trolling the internet, trolling work files on the computer, and trolling the other employees while they do their jobs. Yesterday I decided to clean the toilets at work because, well, I sit right
next to the men's room and frankly the damned think stinks almost constantly, and also because I literally had run out of work to do. So while I'm scrubbing the men's room toilet with a toilet brush in one hand, and a bottle of disinfectant cleaner in the other, in walks my boss to let me know he's leaving for the day. And to ask if I would mind ending my work here on the 11th (Friday) instead of the 15th (the following Tuesday) to save me the trouble of coming back to town for two additional days. I immediately said yes, but I had this flood of emotion come over me, like, wow, this is it, man. It's done. I'm outta here. I wanted to cry, I wanted to hug him, I wanted to laugh and skip around -- I mean, my emotions were all over the damn place. But instead of doing all that, I went back to scrubbing the toilet.
The house feels cavernously huge, it echoes, and the floors sound extra creaky. I can even hear the little crack mouse skittering like mad in the front hall closet, trying to shove his wee fat head down a hole drilled for cable cord. A few nights ago, I discovered crack mouse bumping into the closet walls, attempting to crawl down the too-small cable cord hole, then giving up and bouncing around like a pinball until he ran between my feet and into the dark hallway. I will leave crack mouse be. No fine old house is complete without a resident rodent.
The nights seem longer than they did before the kid moved out. I wake at least two times a night, either from some sound or a dream of a sound. It seems my insomnia has returned with a vengeance. I've been chewing on the same pot of pho for three days now, trying hard not to buy groceries since there are still things here to eat, however odd. Tonight I will treat myself to a wee pot of beans and rice with Crystal hot sauce and a few tablespoons of pico de gallo. Perhaps I'll crisp up some corn tortillas in oil and make chips. Then I am
beginning in the studio after dinner because I must. Tomorrow and Sunday I will have help, but after that, maybe not so much. I have my old cleaning crew from Gaia's Green Clean coming in next week to help wash this grand old house down. I've got Glory Water and Blessed Chinese Wash, white sage, frankincense, holy water from the mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa, and other mojolicious things to truly clean this house.
next to the men's room and frankly the damned think stinks almost constantly, and also because I literally had run out of work to do. So while I'm scrubbing the men's room toilet with a toilet brush in one hand, and a bottle of disinfectant cleaner in the other, in walks my boss to let me know he's leaving for the day. And to ask if I would mind ending my work here on the 11th (Friday) instead of the 15th (the following Tuesday) to save me the trouble of coming back to town for two additional days. I immediately said yes, but I had this flood of emotion come over me, like, wow, this is it, man. It's done. I'm outta here. I wanted to cry, I wanted to hug him, I wanted to laugh and skip around -- I mean, my emotions were all over the damn place. But instead of doing all that, I went back to scrubbing the toilet.
The house feels cavernously huge, it echoes, and the floors sound extra creaky. I can even hear the little crack mouse skittering like mad in the front hall closet, trying to shove his wee fat head down a hole drilled for cable cord. A few nights ago, I discovered crack mouse bumping into the closet walls, attempting to crawl down the too-small cable cord hole, then giving up and bouncing around like a pinball until he ran between my feet and into the dark hallway. I will leave crack mouse be. No fine old house is complete without a resident rodent.
The nights seem longer than they did before the kid moved out. I wake at least two times a night, either from some sound or a dream of a sound. It seems my insomnia has returned with a vengeance. I've been chewing on the same pot of pho for three days now, trying hard not to buy groceries since there are still things here to eat, however odd. Tonight I will treat myself to a wee pot of beans and rice with Crystal hot sauce and a few tablespoons of pico de gallo. Perhaps I'll crisp up some corn tortillas in oil and make chips. Then I am
beginning in the studio after dinner because I must. Tomorrow and Sunday I will have help, but after that, maybe not so much. I have my old cleaning crew from Gaia's Green Clean coming in next week to help wash this grand old house down. I've got Glory Water and Blessed Chinese Wash, white sage, frankincense, holy water from the mission San Luis Obispo de Tolosa, and other mojolicious things to truly clean this house.
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