When the Iron is Hot

 It's Tuesday morning and I have stacks of laundry waiting to go.  It's a Tuesday thing, and sometimes a Wednesday thing as well.  It's all about routines and regularity.  This does not mean there is a time and place for everything; spontaneity is nice.  I just don't live on the spur of the moment.

Yesterday the temps got up to 53 (F).  That's warm for January.  The forecast is for things to cool off, drop to more what are considered normal temps for this time of year.  There is frigid shit out there, but it seems to be always to the east or to the west of us.  

I received an invite back to Sirius XM.  The offer is $6 a month for a year before the cost goes back to the normal $22 a month.  Sorry.  I only listen to the radio when I'm in my car.  At home, if I'm listening to music, it's on Amazon.  And my tastes tend to be rather impromptu.  For example, there are times when I want to listen to German Folk Music and at other times the score from Fallout 4.  And I don't need to listen to some DJ trying to be relevant to all ages of listeners.

My income tax refund hit my bank account this morning.  That was a nice surprise.  I file early.  I file electronically.  And, except for that year when I hit 65 and Social Security sent those 3 big checks, I always get a nice refund.  

Kev McCarthy was on CBS and got drilled by the correspondent.  That seems to be happening more and more, doesn't it.  His little forays into Sunday morning television are intended to fluff his ego and demonstrate his power... and they always seem to fail.  He's one of those morons who never realized that respect is earned.  Giving into the the far right, making concessions, and signing secret rules and regulations earns you nothing.  Someone should tell that buffoon he wields zero power, not that he'd listen.  Honestly, I don't even think he understands how weak he truly is.

Trump's payment of hush money to Stormy Daniels is again back in the headlines.  (yawn)

People are beginning to wonder how imminent the impending indictments of Orange Anus truly are.  For many of us, imminent is in a few hours, possibly tomorrow... maybe.  Yet since Fanni dropped that word all we've heard is silence. People are getting edgy.  We've all been waiting a very long time.  I'd always heard it was best to strike when the iron was hot.

Burning down the house

Yesterday they had coffee and cookies out in the Garden Department for customers.  Nice, huh?  Anyway, after I closed down the garden registers (and yes they'll be open until Christmas... trees... we also sell live trees), I loaded up the crumbs and cups into a cart and pushed them back to the lunch room for the associates and ran into Steve.  He's a runner.  He runs at least 100 miles a week.  That's right, 100 miles a week.  He claims to be a dopamine junkie.  Anyway, as I was unloading the cart he asked me what day of the week it was.  "Saturday," I said.  His response?  "Really?  I didn't know what day it was."  So I reminded him that the day before had been Black Friday.  I watched as he nodded his head, slowly saying "I forget the days, you know."  To which I said, "yep, I know, I use a calendar."  Which is a bit on the sad side, having to look at a calendar daily to see just where exactly in the week I was. Sure, having a work schedule does give me some point of reference, but more of a start time reference rather than a daily reminder.  I had a nice conversation with the Store Manager who told me I needed to just start brushing things off, not let them nag at me like little pin pricks.  But then he also said that maybe in January they could move me away from the Front End.

Right now there's too much going on.  Christmas, remember?  And we're beginning a new freight system.  And there really weren't any manager openings at present.  But in January our Electrical Department manager is stepping down, retiring, and that position will come open.  I smiled.  I nodded.  And I thought to myself, oh, shit, now they're going to give me the chance to burn down somebody's house.