Monday I went to go get a massage from this one place because they will work on glutes and my limp is causing pain in the lower part of my right glutes. Like serious aching pains that need deep tissue massage, and the place that does deep tissue work will NOT do glutes and act insulted if you ask. Well the place that does glutes does them like they are the bestest doggy, not like you need a massage for making things work. In fact the whole massage was like that, rubbing like I just needed the muscles to know they were part of the world and part of me.
Getting to the massage was a fustercluck. The bus I was going to catch the first time was a couple of minutes early, the next bus never came and two schedules after the bus I left the house to catch I finally got on a bus. Then I got to the transit center for my part of town, and the bus I was going to transfer to also didn’t show up. I mean I got there 9 minutes before the scheduled departure, but no bus, until the schedule after the bus I should have been on. So I was over an hour behind when I should have been there for my massage, and I only had a 30 minute window for my massage, which I previously described.
Then I had to go pay my phone bill. Since there were two routes serving the place where I got my massage I actually didn’t have to wait too long for a bus to show up, because both of them were late for the previous schedules that should have been there while I was getting my massage. Things had actually worked out in my favor for a change. Then I caught the bus towards the house which was also the bus to the phone store, and I paid the phone bill and also bought a Coke Zero, and lottery tickets and got money out to pay the guy who mows the lawn. Then I got to wait for the next bus home instead of walking the 0.8 mile home, which was late again. There should have been two buses running that route to cover the rush schedules, but there was only the one that I saw covering every other schedule, so it was very late by the time I got home, almost 2000 instead of 1915 or thereabouts. Mrs. the Poet had already eaten her dinner while mine waited for me in the microwave, so I had to wait until everything got warm and it was almost 2030 by the time I got around to getting things done, and I was, not starved but peckish doesn’t describe it either. More than ready for solid food after missing lunch is the best descriptor I can place on it.
Anyway, had the buses been on the right schedules, I would have finished running around by 1830 or even 1800, instead of 2015. I would have gotten a good massage instead of getting stuffed into the recovery window from my scheduled massage before the next appointment, and getting a crappy one because of that.
And that was just Monday, and everything was about that good for the rest of the week. Flat sodas, things in my sandwiches that hurt my mouth, salty snacks that weren’t as much as I thought they were by volume, just that kinda thing. I mean there was something in my PB&J that hurt my mouth, what could there be in a PB&J to hurt my mouth? Creamy peanut butter, bread, and jelly, what is there that is hard or sharp to bite down on? But there was. Apparently there were seeds of some description in the bread I didn’t know about. And then when I was catching up on the e-mails I missed out on because I was away from the house all day Monday I timeshifted myself again to Vampire hours and basically slept through Friday, which put me behind on e-mails again today, so I’m timeshifting back from a nocturnal schedule to diurnal tonight/today. I got my 8 hours of sleep in by 1800 ignoring the interruptions because I was in bed by 0800 and my sleep was interrupted several times.
To add to the turmoil and frustrations of the week I got a text notice I had a package out for delivery Thursday that also never showed up that day, but did arrive some time during the day on Friday. This was a special cup and pair of colorful socks from Hoonigan Industries basically just a little something for me to feel good for myself, AKA retail therapy.