This morning started far too early, when a nasty attack of reflux woke me at four o’clock. I should have expected trouble when I forgot to take my Tagamet before the Poly dinner last night, had a dinner heavy on cream (fats are bad news if you have GERD) and with wine (alcohol is also bad news), and then didn’t take any Tagamet once I got home, either. Of course, if we’d gotten the Evidence of Insurability form done and turned in to L’s office lots earlier, I could been on her insurance already, refilled my Prevacid script, and avoided the whole thing. Tagamet provides very indifferent control, compared to Prevacid, but with no job and no insurance I sure can’t afford to pay full price for a Prevacid refill.
And speaking of jobs, I’ve been submitted as a candidate on three jobs at three several state agencies, by three several recruitment firms. I hope devoutly that at least one goes through; I’d really like to get back into the public sector, where eccentricity and individualism are at least tolerated, if not necessarily liked. Also, I’ve got to get a reasonable income soon; the estate-sale money has kept us going for the last six weeks, but it’s going to be gone soon and unemployment simply isn’t enough to make do with.
Once I’m awake again later in the day, I’ll have a try at getting the ladder out and climbing up to measure the eaves for gutters. Until we get new gutters, we simply can’t replace the north door, which is getting worse every time it rains, and that’s not to mention the problems of the house shifting as the soil under it and next it is alternately soaked and dried out. A good guttering system would help that hugely, I think. Some point soon, I ought to try getting out the push-mower and seeing if I can make any headway at all with the grass. The weeds are looking definitely sorry for themselves after I sprayed them, but it’s probably going to take at least one more spraying to knock the hardier ones down completely. And then of course there’s the window screen thats been sitting on the sawhorses in the yard for the last year and a half . . . I could always get around to hanging that, at last.
Nikola Tesla tickles the enormous cucumber frame. Fnord.
