[171] Screed City

[171]

07/28/2022 Thursday. Kitchen Microwave. Beaver Haus. Lower Granville, Vermont.

Phase one, complete. I mean, my lord. There was so much gosh darn work, and only one of me to do it. I mean, I made the joke to Sam, a fellow Brewery Bro [Nomenclature Pending,] that Brother Luke is nowhere to seen when you need help building things around here, but the second you are done he shows up with a clipboard taking notes about everything you did wrong. I mean, we were walking over to talk to him standing next to the three weeks of work that I had just finished, and indeed, he was taking notes about what I had done wrong. I mean, that is a little harsh, but he was taking notes about how to improve the "Looks." I mean, cedar, you son of a bee sting! Fragile and soft. It doesn't cut, it shatters. You have to cut it long because it shrinks immediately, and not only that, but it is a moving target. The stuff breathes. I mean, I pieced the thing together enough that hopefully it breathes as a unit now. I hope. Butts crossed.

[Insert Fence Photo]

I mean, my brakes are all fixed now. Kind of. I mean, my brake light is on, and has been on since I fixed them last night. Now, I think, the emergency brake is junk. It never ends. I can't catch a brake. I mean, I will look into that tomorrow. I mean, I bought myself an extra day today by working my buns off all week. Showing up early, leaving late. The anti-thesis of my work ethic. But ca-ching! is all I can say about that. AND, I can now change my own brakes out. The whole enchilada ATBMS. I mean, a lesson was learned. It was very hard won, but it happened, and now when the brakes start making noise in six months, instead of ignoring it, I will just fix them. Kudos to me. I mean, and Brother Luke, I guess. And Scott too, if I am to be honest where things come from, but still, I did a great job!

Oh, and not only that, but my god! There was a flash storm on the interstate the really put my brakes to test. I mean, I don't want to call people idiots for how they drive, but they are absolute morons when a rain storm comes around. I mean, just FYI, when a sudden downpour comes on the interstate when you can't see nothing, and that is combined with a sudden construction zone, do me a favor and maybe don't decide that the slow traffic on the right is just people being meek and overly cautious and take that opportunity to get ahead of everyone. It doesn't end well. AND. if you happen to get into a little fender bender because of this abysmal driving practice, don't decide you can cut across three lanes of interstate traffic against heavy traffic so you can exchange insurance with the person you rear-ended. I mean, what the solution to that would be, I don't know, but my guess is that you should pull into traffic, slowly, go down a while, like where the traffic thins out, pull to the side and let the person find you. My guess is that they know exactly who you are. And causing a miles long traffic jam because you are a double idiot does not benefit anyone. I mean, I guess I did know what they should have done. Kudos to me!

I mean, later in the trip this other jack apple-sam-sam decided to pass me when the road was still very wet, which was fine, I was going slower than them. But instead of driving way ahead of me and then getting in front of me, the immediately pulled in front, causing a rooster tail of water from their tires, which forced me to slow down because I couldn't see nothing, which made the person behind me slow down for the same reason, et cetera, et al. I mean, luckily I was able to get revenge pretty quick. They slowed down for some reason, because they were jerks, probably, jerks that weren't paying attention, and this other car passed. I followed that car, when I passed the rooster shooting car, there was another car behind me going faster than I was, so I pulled in quick in front of the rooster jerk and literally gave them the same business. They had to slow down because of it. I said, out loud, "Payback's a mofo." I mean, I didn't feel bad about it at all.

Anyway, I have been driving for three and a half hours, I guess I got that on the mind. My bad. I mean, it has been a very busy week. I kind of don't remember it. Just work. Work and sleep. Some lunches. Dinner. Kids. Brakes. I got paid. Which didn't hurt my feelings at all. I mean, I was hoping to get paid for the two weeks before and then this week later. I mean, I am going to owe taxes galore, so I was thinking I would open a savings account at one of those good banks around here, in Vermont, so that I could save money for taxes and have a way to access stuff like getting singles for the Farmers Market or whatever. Credit Unions? Are those the good ones? I need to do some research. I mean, I would love nothing more than to quit giving my money to a bank that finances all the horrible and corrupt stuff in the world. I mean, a boy could dream, right?

On a related note, I was offered a job. Which, I mean, I would be stupid to not take it. But it would involve basically doing all my work in Portland from here on out. Which, I mean, I have some thinking to do. But only in the sense that I need to make sure that I can have a place in Vermont, which, I mean, the money they pay, I could easily do, be able to go down to the City for at least a week a month, be able to see G on the weekend whenever possible, and somehow have a place to stay in Portland when I am doing the job that doesn't make the cost untenable. At the moment I could lose about $160 dollars a day and still make more money than working at BMI. So, I mean, I am not going to also have an apartment in Portland as well, that is insane, but still, there must be some sort of solution. Whether that is getting a hotel room, maybe even a motel room. I mean, I like that idea. Live like Bouillon. Pink eye and all. I mean, travel Monday morning. Work all day. Stay Tuesday-Thursday nights, leave on Friday, mid-day. I mean, that's just three nights of sleeping in bed bug infested mattresses. At what? $65 a night? I mean, I would spend just over a single day allotment of extra earnings. And if worst came to worst, I could just suck it up and do a three day stint at the Holiday Inn. Which would basically be double that money. I mean, like I said, I would be stupid not to do it. Plus the work is perfect. Flexible. At my own leisure. I would just need to commit to it. Two weeks on, two weeks off. Weekends in Vermont, weeks in the City. I could do the radio show, the Farmers Market, if that is something I still wish to do. I mean, supposedly the market is getting inspected on Saturday. This Saturday. I mean, my boothing days may be numbered as we speak. I mean, I have insurance, but that is it. I have no idea if I am violating other stuff. I mean, we'll find out.

Can you imagine?! They come around and shut me down! Right in the middle of the market! HAHA! That would not be good for business. I mean, I have the bucket of bleach. I mean, maybe I should make sure to bring some gloves and stuff on Saturday, just in case. I mean, it won't hurt. I mean, thank god I have an extra day this week. Tomorrow! Bloody stool! It's been what? 21 days since I have had a day off? I mean, sure, that isn't much to most of you, who work like this all the time, but me, I don't do it. I refuse to do it, or I used to. I mean, whatever, I don't feel too bad about it. I have a check in my wallet for $9,900 that, I mean, listen, in the grand scheme of things, in all the years, ALL the years of doing rigging and free-lance crap, when you plan and plan and make choices, thinking, "You know what? It is worth it to put everything on hold and focus on this work because you will make $12,000 dollars over three months and then you can just take it easy," But it never, ever, ever works out, and you just find yourself miserable, broke, waiting for the company to get their stuff together, I mean, it never happened. Not once! And then for it to happen now, just like that? And then there is more of it to come? And the travel is easier, and the work is decent, and the people are nice, and you aren't getting nickeled and dimed at every turn? I mean, tomorrow I will deposit a $10,000 dollar check into my bank account. And for the first time in, I don't even know, 10 years? I won't feel like I am totally destitute and have no concrete action for my future endeavors? I mean, it is kind of a big deal. I mean, it's a one to one thing. Where I get out of it what I put into it. I mean, the concept kind of blows my mind. And it is entirely up to me what to do about it. There are no extenuating circumstances. No, if this, then that, but then this thing. NO, it is just, there is work, come do it, if you come do it, it is worth it. I mean, the fact that staying in a hotel that I, myself, pays for isn't a deal breaker because it is the actual cost of doing business, and it is peanuts comparatively? That I don't have to sit inside a work van calculating the hours and hours of wasted time going from Queensbury, NY to Buffalo, NY, and then all the night time hours doing nothing in some junk up-State city in MAGA douche country? I mean, I guess I should start looking for a new car, because Junior Mint is making me nervous. But still, I mean, BMI ran that Cadillac down into the absolute ground before they gave it up. I mean, JM has at least another six or seven months left in him if I keep this travel up.

I mean, whatever. Spare me the details, am I right? I mean, five days to Wyoming. Tomorrow, first day off in forever. I mean, I will try to sleep in, depending, I guess. Get my affairs in order here. Make a plan. Then on Saturday, the Farmers Market. The Publisher has agreed to come break down for me so I can haul A-double socky-sticks to the City to see G's show at the Garage. And then on Sunday I will haul A-double-socky-sticks back up to Vermont. Have Monday to get really ready for Wyoming. Then on Tuesday at some point head to Albany and fly away on an airplane to Denver, where I have a car rental waiting, a hotel room, me and G will spend the night, and then the next morning drive up North. Then spend three weeks in Worlando Beach, drive back down to Colorado, stay with Guy for a couple nights and then drive back to Denver, stay at the hotel I reserved and have already paid for. In the morning we return the car and get on a plane and come back. Then I guess the idea is to spend a week working on the New House, pouring concrete for the final floor. And also getting the insulation job up and running at Beaver Haus, and then what? I don't know. Go back to Portland. I mean, there are a few ins and outs to deal with, but it should be exciting. I mean, maybe because I got so much sun this week, or maybe because I slept really good this week, or maybe because I have had almost nothing to drink this week, or maybe because I have a $10,000 dollar check in my wallet, but I feel pretty energized. I mean, there was that moment last Sunday, when I was baking and baking and baking. Professor Curly was here, she was about to hit the road and go have some fun with her sister and Steve, and I had to stay home, baking, baking for fickle idiots that don't know what is good for them, and it felt like I was forced to do my homework while I could see all my brothers and friends outside having fun, and I was feeling really sorry for myself, but the freedom has finally come. I mean, there will be about 12 hours of driving, no, 15 hours of driving between now and the airplane taking off, a very rude early morning on Saturday, and some other stresses that I have yet to solidify between now and then, but still, things are looking up for Ol' Joe. You guys won't have me to kick around anymore. I am on an upward trajectory! AND! Teresa started working on Dishwasher [Italics] again! I mean, that book will blow all of your minds when it comes out. Shame is worse than guilt, at least with guilt you can ask for forgiveness, with shame, it lasts forever.

Or something like that. I don't know what to say. I am feeling very positive. For once in my miserable life. For a guy that can't catch a break, I am doing alright. I mean, there has to be a song that brings it all into focus. I am having trouble though, thinking of what it is. I mean, maybe it is a Hollies song? Nope. It is Liz Phair:

[Insert Stratford On Guy]