And I didn’t get to the Post Office in time to buy Mrs. the Poet’s Stamps. And because the Nice New Person gave me a ride home I also didn’t get to buy Powerball, or Mega Millions, or Texas Lotto tickets.
Basically I had to transfer money from the lockbox account that I have to go to the bank to transfer money from, so that I won’t bounce the tax checks. Bouncing the tax checks is doubleplus ungood, or “The Worst” in Amerispeak otherwise known as American English. So I did the Bus Thing and got to the bank drive-through because we are still not allowed in the actual bank without making an appointment a week in advance, and Everybody Has A Car except me so I have to stand in line with the cars out in the weather. And there’s nothing to put the slip on to sign the transaction slip so it looks like a demented toddler signed the slip. Why even have us sign the slip if it doesn’t look like our normal signatures? But, banking was accomplished, then off to the Post Office.
It was a long walk to the Post Office, and by the time I got there it was closed up tight. Nothing to do about it except walk back to the bus station because there was no place to sit and walking hurts less than standing (it really does, my legs and back hurt much more from standing around than walking the same amount of time). But as I was walking away from the Post Office someone honked at me, then offered a ride. And not so much for the fact I was tired from the earlier walking as I didn’t feel like waiting for the next bus (even though I was a little tired) I accepted a ride from a nice older woman, who decided to take me all the way to Casa de El Poeta. We chatted some and she told me her mother lived a couple of blocks on the other side of Pleasant Valley Road from her and I lived a couple blocks on the other side of Country Club from her and she was always seeing me walking around the neighborhood which is why she offered me a ride.
After that I washed up and helped a tiny bit with getting dinner out of the microwave and off the stove (I usually do the plating because Mrs. the Poet’s bad grip strength makes it hard for her to carry the plates) and we had Spanish Rice and microwave burritos and a very forgettable vegetable (seriously I know we had a veggie, but can’t for the life of me remember what it was, or even what color it was, either green or orange because we bought green beans and carrots).
Then we watched old person TV and I started to compose this post after we watched James Corden. As I put in the tags it was a pretty boring day.