Things are Weird, What Else is New?

I won’t claim to be psychic, but there are times when I know things I shouldn’t be able to know. As in things that happened in another state or country, or otherwise in a time or place I didn’t have access to. Like the medical history of someone I only met a couple of weeks prior in elementary school, or knowing someone else’s transport ship get would be delayed by a mechanical problem at sea, or knowing that Bush would start a war if he won the 2000 election (I saw burning buildings and people shooting in civilian clothes, I didn’t know where they were fighting, I thought it was rioting in the streets).

Anyway I know something I don’t know how to interpret, again. And as it’s strictly a visual/tactile vision without audible context to let me know where/when it happened/will happen. So you see my dilemma here. I know something has/will happen(ed) but I don’t know where, when, or with who, or if I even take part. Cassandra had it easy, she knew things but couldn’t do anything about them. I don’t even know enough to not be believed. But it’s usually always like this, I’m like Nostradamus, visions that can only be known in hindsight. Like “Oh that was what that was!” writ large. Or as Fred Sanford put it “Nostradummy”.

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Just stumbled on a terrifying piece on YTM

Someone made a 10 hour loop of the Batman TV theme from 1966. You thought it was repetitious at the beginning of the show? After 10 hours how do you think you would feel? I only played the 2:16 version, then had the Green Hornet TV theme (AKA Flight of the Bumblebee by Al Hirt) as a palette cleanser. Now I’m listening to my Trump Party playlist that I curated for 2021-01-20 to play Voldemort off the stage. Specifically I’m listening to the ELO version of Fanfare For The Common Man, the 7 minute version, and now it’s Pink Floyd’s Money.

Didn’t have much to say today, just wanted to warn you about the 1 hour Batman loop.

More evidence the receptionist at the massage place is sweet on me

Or that she’s freaked out by me, I can’t tell. Anyway, I get all scrubbed and shampooed and ready to be massaged, and I walk into the massage place and the receptionist comes from out of the back, and she’s all smiles and guides me to the room right away. I tell her I need to use the restroom first, so I leave my bag with my stuff in the room. Then she runs, (not just hurries, but flat out sprints) to get the massage tech to the room, and I don’t even have time to get undressed before the tech is knocking to come in. Notice at no point in this exchange has there been any opportunity for me to pay.

So I get on the table and pull the sheet over my butt and tell the tech I’m ready, and when she comes in I explain about my neck malfunction and hip problems and she asks about my socks and I tell her I have cold feet, this is of minor importance later. So she gives me a massage, lots of attention to my neck and head, also lots of work on my glutes on both sides, particularly the ones that rotate my upper thighs and make my knees point in and out on the outside of my butt. She does the hot stones on my butt (very nice, highly recommended) as well as all over my neck and back. Meanwhile the hole in the cushion I’m supposed to breathe through is mashing my chin and also my nose so I can only breathe through my mouth, but my forehead is nicely supported and my neck is perfectly aligned. This works out great for when she does my neck which it felt like she spent hours working on, but I know was only several minutes, with Arthur Dent getting a real workout. Anyway, by the end of the massage I have almost 180° of rotation in my neck.

Anyway, backside is rubbed to perfection, now comes the first “fun” part, rolling over. The tech gives me a helping hand and in the process leaves my crotch exposed for most of the operation, about 30 seconds. She looks but because of all the damage I took since the turn of the century, nothing happens, at least for me, or that I can detect for her either. Then she starts on my face and the rest of my head, really working on my scalp/skull/forehead. During this my sinuses decide to open and the sound of the pressure equalizing between the atmosphere and sinuses rings in the quiet massage room and momentarily deafens me, but the tech barely quivers at the noise. It’s mostly inside my head so it probably wasn’t even noticeable for the tech. Then she’s on to doing that “rub the back of the neck from the front” thing and works over Arthur Dent again even better this time. I think she might have felt it the first time through and decided that’s what I was telling her about at the start of the massage. Anyway, she did a (good) number on it and that’s most of the reason I had such a good range of motion at the end of the massage. And the tech did a stimulating colon massage which caused me to pass gas for a while during and after the massage, lots of work on my upper quads and lower abs that also really helped my range of motion for my legs, and she removed my socks for a really good foot massage that had my leg twitching like a frog in a Leyden jar (look it up this was the 18th century experiment that was the basis for the original Frankenstein novel) because it hit so many reflex points on the soles of my feet, then she put my socks back on.

Remember when I said I wasn’t asked to pay at the beginning of the massage when I was rushed off to the room? Well the receptionist didn’t tell the massage tech, who tried to get me rehydrated and breathminted and out the door without asking to get paid/tipped, and didn’t seem to understand when I wanted to you know, actually pay for the massage. It took a few minutes to get it across, because the usual procedure was to pay up front. And that’s the story of how I avoided getting a free 90 minute massage.

Actually saw Mrs. the Poet today

First things first, I put her phone on the charger to make sure I could call her in the morning. Since the charge cord was laying on the floor there’s no way she could plug it in herself. Also I lotioned up her legs which were very dry and rough. We also talked about how she’s eating and what, and how the protein bars were sitting on a table across the room from her bed, not where she could actually get to them to eat. I swear it’s like that woman didn’t want to come home, since she’s not doing the one thing that can get her home, eating.

Speaking of eating, grocery shopping this week only cost $44, so about half what we spent with Mrs. the Poet eating at home. And a big chunk of that was adult diapers to I don’t end up peeing my pants every day. Well the interesting thing is now that I don’t have to worry about not getting to the toilet in time, I usually manage to make it, so I end up wearing the same diaper for 2 days and then throwing it away because I wore it for 2 days, not because I used it. And I know that was a run-on sentence. I will strive to avoid those in the future. I usually buy frozen dinners or entrees and canned greens to make the meal more balanced.

So this is the month I pay Property taxes, but the problem is I still haven’t gotten all the tax bills. GISD was late setting their tax rates and I still haven’t gotten their bill. This means I’ll have trouble paying them by 1/31. But I’ll figure out a way.

Still no word about Mrs. the Poet, and Other (Good) News

First post of 2023! As of midnight 2023-01-02 I have no news about Mrs. the Poet’s condition other than her positive C-19 test and a case of sniffles that I knew as of the last post. I think she left her phone on her nightstand out of reach, and then “forgot” to charge it later, because she didn’t answer Thursday and Friday, and it went straight to voicemail Saturday and Sunday.

But I should find out better today as we are planning to at least visit the nursing home even if we can’t see her. And I’m fading so it’s time to put this post to bed and me shortly after.