Tuesday, August 26, 2003

You know that it's a blog thing, baby
Death Row is the label that pays me
just about drive me crazy
if I weren't so doggone lazy

Still doing the public library gig because my Internet dial-up for Netzero is messed up. I go to their web site and it says for me to download the latest dial-up numbers for my area from their web site, but I can't do that because all the local access numbers currently on my list have been disabled. I don't have long-distance service on my phone. Ahh... But a brainstorm. I could take my computer over to my parent's and dial out from there using a long-distance access number, just long enough for me to download the latest phone list...

I'm doing everything I can not to spend money to fix this problem. Netzero also has this 900-number $1.95 a minute tech support line. I don't want to call it. No huevos. Well, enough talk on my computer problems.

Today was the first day of school for the Rockford Public School District and I wasn't called in. Last time I was employed by the district for the first day of school, back in 2001, I worked that first day. If I don't get called in tomorrow I'll make a few calls to sub-callers. So, bottom line, I'm a self-employed lawnmower man, substitute teacher, creative writer, trail builder, husband, son person. I sometimes feel disheartened by my lack of vocational success. But I made clear, concrete decisions to pursue a life of adventure and exploration over money. You can't go on long-distance hiking trips and have job security at the same time. You can't have independent, artistic, creative endeavors while yoked to other jobs.

I have economic security. I have a simple lifestyle. I have love, health, peace and safety. I am blessed.

I just feel like a failure here, mid-day, wearing a dirt-stained white Hanes v-neck t-shirt, grass stained worn down tennis shoes, faded green shorts and a dirty tan baseball cap. Unshaven, unwashed, listening as fat woman in a blue mumu sneezes and sniffles. At least I took my allergy medicine. Saturday Esther and I did trail work in Milton and I forgot to take Claritin. Each swing of the pick mattock loosened the dirt and sent thousands of spiky spores into the air. After about the 10th sneeze in a row and a constant tickling in the back of my throat, I decided to take a break and go to a gas station for Benadryl. When it took effect the world slowed down and became jangly. I remember this feeling since childhood. Diphenhydramine and I are old friends. It's a great anti-histamine, but the high leaves a little to be desired. I can hardly function under its spell.

I like the Claritin, or, in my case, Wal-itin, which just became available without a prescription this year. In prior years I could have seen an allergist and got a prescription, but I either didn't have the time or health insurance or both to do it. I always kept Benadryl handy just in case it got real bad and went through a box or two during my prime time of allergy season, which is now until early October. I used to be a lot worse when I was younger. I'm a little less reactive now.

I wish ol' Mama Cass, who has a tattoo on her wrist that says "Nanette and John" and attacks the keys with a one-fingered peckishness she should also apply to her caloric intake, would quit her sniffling, hiccuping display. Of course this is revenge for all the annoying sniffles I've made in public. I'll just have to remember to not sit at her computer station.

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