Dude….

Today is a day like most others around here, Gentle Reader.  For some reason not intelligible to the naked eye or basic ratiocinative activity, our next door neighbor is…well, I’m not sure what he’s doing.  It involves a dumptruck (guess where? YESS, extra credit! in my driveway), sledgehammers, a tile saw and many bricks.  It started early.  Very early.   It’s all in Spanish.  If I didn’t know better, I’d say I really AM living in some kind of parallel universe.  Or maybe that Bunuel film where it’s just the same day over and over.  The amount of construction and hammering and bone shattering noise that goes on around here is mind boggling.  You’d think you were in Manhattan.  Except that it is just an ever so slowly aging residential neighborhood in a “town” in a major “metropolitan area”, and everything always looks the same.  All the noise from sandblasting one hears at 7 am is not to be seen in any concrete result anywhere.  It’s weird.  And right now, we’re at hour five of something that sounds like when the dentist is operating heavy equipment in your mouth. Really, it is rather tiring.  Not to mention what it does for the concentration.

But, nils desperendum.  We haven’t had much to say here at Boozilla Acres lately.  My mechanic rather kindly pointed out that since I’m a little, uh, slow on the uptake? it’s just everything catching up with me.  I blew a few fuses and gaskets over the last minute trade of Orlando Cabrera the A’s made.  But, fear not! No diatribe will ensue here.  Although I did find it interesting that when I attempted to log on to the team’s official website message boards, I had only tapped in a few words when the system went  kaflooey, rejected my proposed nickname, and spit me out altogether.  I felt like the Wizard of Oz was on the other end there for a minute.

But, no.  It’s just strange days.  Lots of challenging situations and painful stories.  Alot of them seem to have to do with the need to let go of something one really can’t let go of.  Which then requires lots of focussed thinking cap activity to figure out how to look at said something until a breakthrough occurs.  Phew, Gentle Reader.  Phew.  Meanwhile, I couldn’t even begin to make up the stuff that’s going on around here.  And, frustratingly, I can’t really write about it because the parties are all living, and here, and eyeing me with that look that says, DONTYOUDAREWRITEABOUTTHATDOYOUHEARME?  So.  Enough rambling.  But be comforted in the knowledge that the drilling goes on.  As I write.

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