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let her drink Cherry Coke
Monday, April 5 2021
I had a dream this morning that had me riding some sort of low-slung lightweight powered vehicle randomly into some sort of exclusive convention where I managed to get my hand stamped despite not having paid or been invited to attend and not being suitably attired. But somehow I accidentally left the convention (and my vehicle) behind, and when I tried to get back in, flashing my handstamp was not enough. The woman at the entrance immediately could tell I didn't belong and demanded to see my ticket stub, which I didn't have of course. I ended up in some sort of detention for people who had tried to get in under false pretenses, and it was here that I gradually became aware that the stakes weren't that high since I was in a dream.
It was another beautiful early spring day, which can never be taken for granted at this time of year. Making the day even better, there was plenty of leftover purple pie for me to eat. There was something like one and a quarter sformati leftover from last night, Gretchen had taken leftover chili to work, and it turned out that Powerful didn't much like purple pie.
In the mid afternoon, I wanted to report the issue with the powerline zapping the tree along Dug Hill Road. Central Hudson provided no number to call, suggesting that one call 911. And when I tried to call their customer number, the robot lady told me there would be a sixteen minute wait. So I called 911 (for the first time ever as anything but a juvenile crank call), which responded by sending out the Hurley Fire Department. There wasn't much they could do, so they watched the situation until someone from Central Hudson came out. And all that person did was moved the red plastic insulator a couple feet so it would actually do its job.
Throughout the day today, I found myself removing unused electrical cords and powerstrips from behind my main workstation computer, Woodchuck. By the end of the day, Woodchuck was the only thing plugged into one of the powerstrips, and there were plenty of other outlets available on powerstrips that I would not be eliminating. So I shut Woodchuck down, plugged it into a different outlet, started it up, and began the process of cloning its 2 TB SSD so that I would have a current backup should something bad happen to it.
Earlier in the evening, my brother Don had called while I was in the bathtub, and Gretchen brought the phone to the tub for me. Don's big concern this evening was that our mother Hoagie had recently drunk a Cherry Coke despite her diabetes. I told Don not to be too concerned about this, that Hoagie was trying to enjoy the life she has left and at this point cares more about quality of life than quantity of life. If she wants to enjoy a Cherry Coke now and then, I said, he should just let her and not freak out. I don't know if Don quite got what I was saying, but he did concede that Hoagie has been depressed of late. It's not just about the underage girls she's been hallucinating, whom she blames for stealing her horse equipment and shooting kiddie porn. She also misses our father. (Remember, for the past nine and a half years, she's been living with just her crazy son, who shares none of her interests and only wants to talk about dinosaurs and dictators.)
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