Cosmic Debris
I wonder how many times I’ve used “Cosmic Debris” as a title. Prob’ly quite a few times, since cosmic debris is a recurrent bane of my existence. I won’t talk about the trials of hauling a raggedy old LL Bean duffle bag between the three or four places I squatted for two months. The Landfill, the Squatter’s Paradise, the Moomincabin, and a few nights here and there at Houghton Lake. I managed not to have to make any emergency trips to Woldemort for underwear but there were a few close shaves.
I handle virtually all of my financial transactions on line and that is a good thing because, if I didn’t do it that way, I’m sure I’d’ve missed something in recent months. I can well remember the days when I would take the beach urchins up to the moominbeach for a few weeks in the summer and, as the Chief Landfill Bookkeeper, whenever we crash-landed back on the planet, I would have to spend a rather nerve-racking hour or so opening mail, paying bills, balancing the checkbook and figuring out if we had *any* money to our names. Not so any more. Almost everything is paid automatically, and anything that isn’t is emailed to me. Aannnddd I can look things up on line whenever I want. And transfer money if I need to. On my phone, no less.
Still, I have spent a fair amount of time these last months doing the paperwork dance with The Commander. NOT that SHE is disorganized! Quite the opposite. But she has lived in even more places than I have the last couple months and, well, *we* have lost a few important documents and have had to dredge for them or even replace them… Not fun. The Commander is more on top of this stuff than I am and I have felt quite a bit of guilt for whatever part I have had in mangling things for her.
So, here I am at the Landfill. Thinking about how organized The Comm is about paperwork. And how organized *I* used to be before the volume of paper accumulating here in the Landfill had reached the point that one tall metal file cabinet couldn’t contain it any more and various “banker’s boxes” began sprouting all over. Which banker’s box contains what? I do not know any more. I am beginning to feel like Alice when the deck of cards attacked her! We do not have to save every single piece of paper that comes into the house and so I began an attack on that kind of cosmic debris today. Um, do not ask me about this in a month because, who knows? I may end up wasting tomorrow on Angry Birds or whatever…
That’s not all I did. I. Washed. Out. The. A2 Garbage Cart. The one that has been kicking my highly sensitive gag reflex into high gear every time I walk by it. Yuck!!! And then I met Mouse for a quick little utility lunch at our fav-o-rite “fast food” place, Panera, the one in the Colonnade on Eisenhower Parkway. After lunch, we swung around the corner to meet up again at The Twilight Zone (aka Tarjay). The mission? To buy Mouse an ironing board. What can I say? She is a fiber artist (among many other things) and fiber artists need ironing boards. Mission accomplished with some good people-watching along the way. Of course, I think the two of us probably provided plenty of others with some good people-watching fodder too.
With luck, my mouse will help me get air into my taaarrrr tomorrow morning (yes, she will, txt msg arrived). My taaarrrr light is on for the 2nd time this week. So it’s not an ultra-picky-sensor, it’s a sloooowwww leeeeaaakkkk. I am a ninny about these things. I do not know how to check a taaaarrrr for air. Theoretically, I know how to change a taaarrrr. That procedure is more or less burned onto my brain from driver’s ed. The one time I’ve been faced with a flat taaarrr *alone*, I had the crappiest equipment on the face of the planet (Ford Pinto Wagon) and I could not get the damn lugnuts to budge. I shouldda learned this kind of thing a loonnnggg time ago but I have always been surrounded by male engineers and, well… I am outta steam…
Onward and upward.
July 9th, 2011 at 8:31 pm
I call AAA if I have car issues; my husband is pretty good, but not with today’s cars. And he thinks that my jack is a huge joke!! I do some stuff on-line, but not that much. I don’t like automatic withdrawals(I don’t monitor them enough) and so just do that for our house payment. Love Panera!!
July 10th, 2011 at 5:44 am
Mark and I had lunch at Panera yesterday, only here we call it St. Louis Bread Company! Love to a local company that’s gone national. <3, <3!