[164] Screed City

[164]

07/13/2022 Wednesday. Kitchen Cardboard Box. Hampshire House. Portland, Maine.

I mean, it is 10:13p, just spent the last three hours fixing the brakes. I mean, I assisted fixing the brakes. I need to hit the sack ASAP, but I need to calm down first. And for some reason, the "Smart" temperature thing in this place has decided I needed to be sweltering. I mean, I can't tell if it's just off, or if it is fucking with me. I mean, there is nothing like a nice balmy night of sleep on some carpeted floor in an unfurnished house.

The brakes are the same. Even worse now, because they need to be bled. They make the same noises, but all the parts are new and took a nice chunk of change from my bank account. Peace of mind, though, right? I mean, it has to be the dust covers making that noise. It just has to be. I mean, me and Scott, or Scott and me assisting changed the back brakes last August. Calipers, rotors and brake pads. And the noise is most definitely coming from the front, but c'mon! But I will say, driving home in a weird city at night with sloppy brakes and bad eyes was pretty wild. I am surprised I didn't end up in jail. Or at least, pulled over and breathalyzed. I mean, not that I was drinking, but I was not top form driving. I mean, there is a reason I avoid driving at night. It's because I can't see shit. But I stayed off the interstate, and the drive was nine minutes, so, such are the perils of modern life.

Work was very busy. Building shelves all day. I was supposed to pick Brother Luke up at 7a, but he forgot he had a doctor's appointment to get his balls snipped, so he had me pick him up at 7:30a, which meant I had an extra 30 minutes of sleep. I mean, I was asleep by 8:30p last night. Exhausted, I guess. I need to be at the Brewery tomorrow at 8a, so I can sleep a little later tomorrow, I suppose. If I want to. Not sure that will happen. Butwhatever. There is a hot dog party for the Company, so that will be fun. I hear they will have all sorts of toppings. Onions, caramelized onions, cheese maybe, mustard, ketchup, maybe even sauerkraut. Today's lunch was pretty good. 1/4 of a cheeseburger, 1/2 of a sausage, a salad, some orange, half a burrito that I brought, some chips, a sparkling water. There was grape leaf things that I didn't even bother trying. I mean, fool me once, or twice, or three times. Shame on me.

I mailed the Donkeys [Italics] on the way to BL's house this morning. Augustin reminded me. Thank you! UnThank you very much everyone else that didn't bother. I mean, it was two days early, so you can expect them two days earlier than normal, those that get them. I mean, I would have literally forgotten had I not been reminded. Such is the nature of things these days. I don't know why, but I feel so very busy, busy as shit, these days. I can't remember anything. I need to start working with a calendar. I mean, between now and August 2nd there is not a second of free time. 23 hours of driving, if not more, three farmers markets, two full weeks of work. Two baking days. I think I will need to do a cook after the market on both next weeks one and the following weeks one. I need to go down to the City with a one day turn-around. Spend a day getting ready to be gone for three weeks, get to G and the airport in Albany. I mean, instead of writing right now, I should be looking at long term parking. At the airport. To see if I need to instead make plans to leave Junior Mint at G's house. Which will determine timing. I mean, how do people do this shit? I find it exhausting. I mean, I guess it's all for money, but at what point is there the trade-off? I guess if I keep it up, Wyoming will actually be a vacation this year. Instead of a working vacation. Although, I am so behind on all my writing projects that were supposed to finished by September, I think I am going to have to push shit back. I mean, I still haven't done the second edit on Hilarious [Italics] which Agustin sent me his edit months ago? And Donkey [Italics] BOT. And Dishwasher [Italics]? I mean, I have no idea where that thing stands. I keep meaning to look into it, but my emotions won't let me.

Whatever, woe is me, I can't catch a break, against all odds. What can you do? Work, work, work, and then one day, you'll catch a great big break and realize that you were just spinning around on some hamster's wheel and your brain will do some switch thing and you will just be glad of what you have and you can just relax and grow old gracefully, right? I mean, I have long passed the phase of thinking that anything was ever going to come of anything, I just want to enjoy the process, focus on one thing at a time and stop needing to fill every second with productivity, thinking I can grab onto the earth with my furiously typing fingers, thinking that I can keep the grave from pulling me in. I mean, sorry, that is bleak. I don't mean to be, I just know I have this thing hanging over me that I need to jettison, and I am really just waiting for the right time. I feel it getting close. And it kind of rears it's ugly head, or beautiful head, depending on how I am feeling at any hour of the day, but when I am tired, like now, life gets really weird. And to add to that, the idea that I am about to hop into a carpet hard bed for a few hours of sleep, get up, take an ice-warm shower and then go work for another nine hours, only to do the same thing again, I mean, but money! You have to have money. I understand that, but at what cost? I mean, spending time with my brother and his family is golden. The work itself is rewarding and I am not miserable, but sometimes it feels like I made a deal with a devil or a genie or something where I am sitting at a bar and there is a twelve inch pianist on top of the bar. If you know that joke.

I mean, changing out those brakes. What a pain in the ass! It needed to happen though. The calipers were the worst. Getting the brake pads in without touching them. And the bolt things being painted, meaning getting them on was a exercise in frustration that almost led to us giving up. Yet we endeavored to persevere. I mean, and then after all of it, the same ol' sounds, but now with spongy brakes. I mean, can you just break off dust guards? That has to be the noise. There is no other noise it could be. It's not like the wheels are wobbly. Or angled. I mean, all new stuff on the outside just means the sound is coming from further in. And that is the only other option. And those dust covers are not very good looking. I mean, they are rusty and falling apart. And a dust cover seems like a good thing, especially in Vermont, but what would you rather have fucking up your brakes? Dust? Or a dust cover? I mean, I fill like this is what caused the rear brakes to seize in the first place, right? Anyway. I don't want to talk about it anymore.

[Insert Car Photos]

I mean, I want to end on a positive note. But I already told you about the hot dogs tomorrow. I mean, dinner was nice. We had tacos and I convinced Brother Luke's son to come onto to Screed City Radio to talk about mazes. I bought him a book about them. He likes to draw them. And they are great. They have like places of boiling lava and places you can catch a ramp and ride a surfboard on a rainbow, and lots of sharks and spikes and pits with teeth that you have to watch out for. And his sister is a maniac that loves to make faces. And showed me her crystal from Science Camp that she painted with food coloring that she had me take down from a tall shelf so she could tell me all about it, and it made both of our hands very stained with food coloring and then she said: "Yeah, I think my parents put it up there so I can't play with it for this reason." And I laughed and laughed and laughed. She wasn't mad at them. It was just how it was. She wanted to play with it, they didn't want everything that she touched to be stained. Such is life. What can you do? Win some, lose some.