Grump Central Logbook: Week of 4 February 2018
Saturday, 10 February. Lunch with my friend never happened—more or less as I'd anticipated. Instead, I learned that another friend of mine was just diagnosed with cancer. Whenever I think my problems are too much to bear, I get a reality check.
Friday, 9 February. The birdbath marks the days as it alternates between freezing and thawing. And it's been another week of radio silence. Time to take a different approach to resolving this problem; I simply cannot continue living like this. But today I may be having lunch with a friend—something to look forward to for a change.
Thursday, 8 February. My old rust bucket of a car is misbehaving. I fear it may be an expensive problem, which I can't afford to have fixed, so I may soon be grounded. And I've no idea what this may mean in terms of survival; I don't even like the thought of having to investigate the alternatives.
Wednesday, 7 February. A couple faint glimmers of hope, and then... boom, right back in the land of radio silence. Seems no one wants to talk to me. I'd be tempted to say, "to hell with everything, I've had it," but then what? Right now, all roads lead to the same dead end. And it's raining, just to add to the gloom.
Tuesday, 6 February. I've set the wheels of change into motion. And having done so has at last allowed me to sleep. But... the outcome is yet unknown.
Monday, 5 February. Today I will be lawyer-shopping. Not something I like to do, but something I need to do, evidently, as mine has gone AWOL at the most critical time since I started work on my home. This decidedly un-fun task will at least be balanced out, somewhat, by a surprise that just arrived in my email box this morning: a request to edit a forthcoming magazine article on Aurora Postage Stamp Trains.
Sunday, 4 February. It was another sleepless night, and very early this morning I learned why my birdfeeders were mysteriously emptied overnight every so often. I heard a clatter, and when I peeked outside, I saw four of these guys roaming around the porch. Now I must take the birdfeeders down each evening and put them back up in the morning. I'm not annoyed—I enjoy wildlife. I just prefer that the birds get the birdfood.
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