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it's never as bas as it is in Fargo
Thursday, May 18 2017
I drank kratom tea for most of the workday, partly because I would have important meeting about the future of the mass emailing system, and kratom puts me in a nicely pro-social mood. It may also slightly improve my ability to focus on whatever tasks I am working on. For me it seems to be more of a stimulant than a depressant, though it's hard to say for sure.
Meanwhile, the hot weather continued, with me being shirtless as much as possible, like some sort of long-haired Vladimir Putin.
This evening Gretchen had dinner with Sarah the Vegan at the Garden Café in Woodstock. Even so, she couldn't get away from her all-hours job as building manager of our nascent real estate empire. At 7:00pm Gretchen's phone rang and it was the new tenant in the not-quite-finished Brewster Street house. Gretchen mentioned several times that she was out at dinner with a friend as a gentle way to suggest maybe sending a text or calling later, but still the tenant kept talking. As Gretchen related this story to me later, she suddenly started screaming, "Can I just get a fucking meal?" as if perhaps she was mad at me. It freaked Neville out, but Gretchen soon assured him it was okay. I listened to all this and then suggested we settle into the latest episode of the third season of Fargo. It was good escape from the relentless crises in our rental properties. A great thing about Fargo is that, no matter how badly the errors and fuckups around you stack up, it's never as bas as it is in Fargo. This was partly why I used to enjoy the "reality" show Goldrush wherein chucklehead Real Americans tried to mine gold. Now that such chuckleheads have their man Donald Trump in office, I have no desire to watch it.
At night, the dogs have been a doing a lot of barking from the upstairs bedroom. They're responding to something they see down in the pines east of the house, but it's unclear what that is. Sometimes they run down there and come back with the smell of shit on their breath.
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