July was a bad month for a variety of reasons. If it could go wrong, it pretty much did. Now that the bombing is over, it’s time to start digging out of the rubble.
Oops, another bomb.
Yesterday I stopped in at the office because they left a note on my door saying my lease was up for renewal. I signed it in December which means it should renew in December. For whatever reason, they put me on an eight month lease. No, the guy I talked to had no idea why. No, they don’t have eight-month leases.
One of the managers came out of her office and explained that they have a matrix. They have to stagger the leases so not too many of one style come up for rent at one time.
Excuse me? Does that mean everyone in this huge complex moved in on the same month?
I told her that didn’t even make sense. We have had this apt for three years and it’s always been December.
Oh, well, you put in a notice to vacate early once so that no longer matters.
And I rescinded it, leaving the original lease intact.
I didn’t even initial this handwritten date on the lease where it was put to August instead of December. Everything else is typed in and this was handwritten, does that seem odd?
No, it’s done like that all the time.
The other leases weren’t.
Well, your lease is up in August.
I do intend to file complaints with the owner of the company and the apartment association, but for now, I’m just getting ready to move…in a hurry.
Right turn. Sharp.
Will had convinced me to set up an Ebay story to sell some rope bowls and I had come up with the brainstorm of making steampunk goggles. The glory of this plan is I can work on them when I feel good. I can wrap myself up in my electric blanket when my body is on a tirade and, if I am really not feeling well, I can just take some meds and go back to bed. There are also days I just crank back on the couch or in bed and do stuff. It’s hard to do that with a regular job.
I located some goggles I really like for the base and a wonderful assortment of wood veneers and gears.
Obviously, that goes on the back burner as I have 30 days to be packed and ready to go.
When I was young and dumb, I used to always carry two sets of clothes in my truck, extra personal hygiene stuff like towels, toothbrush, toothpaste soap etc.
There was a reason for this. Someone might say something like, “I’m broke. Let’s make a beer run.”
Back then, beer run had a different meaning. It meant we’d pool our money, grab a pickup and go to the nearest Wyoming town we could find and stock up on Coors beer, which wasn’t sold in Montana at the time. We usually stayed in Wyoming and partied for a while before returning. Then we headed back to Montana, spread the word we had Coors and voila, spending money and a good party to boot.
In those days it was just good to be prepared because travel could happen at the drop of a hat and I always wore a hat.
As I aged, I developed a strong attachment to roots. I don’t like moving. I don’t like change. I want to know exactly what I’m going to do and where I’m going to be.
I thought I had finally settled on a life plan.
Get the surgeries done and get back in shape.
Take the Mavis Beacon typing course to improve my skills and speen.
Take an Excel course to improve my proficiency with that.
Take a ten key course.
Those would improve my skills and make me more attractive to apply for some jobs in Afghanistan.
Work in Afghanistan for two or three years. Save up money and come home, buy a house and sink down roots for the last time. I’d have a shop to build furniture and carve rocking horses. I could piddle around with some steampunk designs. I’d build rocking chairs out of old pallets. Life would be good.
Since I wouldn’t be traveling much in Afghanistan, that would give me lots of time to write at night.
Ta da! Perfect plan.
I’ve been praying lately for God to take control of my life. I have to believe He has. I’m not crazy about moving somewhere I hadn’t planned on moving to without even knowing if I can get a job, but I have to trust.