“Remoted - Hybrid” – Day 565 (Saturday)

There were potentially interesting semi-plans for the day. Soft plans, of the “maybe I’ll do this event or that thing,” not the kind where a commitment was made to another human to definitely be at place x at time y to do thing z. They didn't happen

Instead of attending the St. Patrick’s Cemetery tour in the morning, there was bathrobe-clad lounging and coffee drinking while watching movies on streaming services. Notable accomplishments included taking a shower, blow drying my hair, and starting a series on Netflix that I thought was a movie until Episode Two kicked in. Random weeds were pulled during random trips outside.

Instead of attending the open house at a big art complex, a long needed pointy gardening shovel was bought at the local neighborhood hardware store. The need became apparent in June 2020 when relocating plants for the installation of the fence using only a trowel. Hands were cramped, trowels were broken, swears were muttered, and miraculously, most of the plants that were moved survived.

Better than a trowel.

While leaving the store, new shovel in hand, a flash of white passed me on the left and then was suddenly in front of me. A white Ram pickup had taken a very tight right turn onto the side street where the store sits on the corner, drove up over the curb very nearly hitting me, and parked in front of me along the building. The driver, clad in a high visibility safety vest, seemed completely unaware he had nearly made mincemeat out of me.

The temptation to slam the new shovel through the truck’s window was strong, but then I would probably need to buy another one. It already took 15 months to get around to getting this one, so I refrained. And vandalism probably has consequences.

There was an attempt to address the low tire pressure situation on the way to the hardware store so the dashboard display can stop scolding me. The air pump at the gas station on the corner near the house was marked with a sheet of paper declaring “Out of Service.” Of course it is.

I almost made it home without stopping at Family Dollar, but the car autopiloted into the lot. I sat in the parking spot wondering why I was there, and finally went in with no clear idea why. A few minutes later I left with greeting cards, a jug of laundry detergent, a bottle of dish soap, and a bag of Brim's Movie Theater Butter Flavor Premium Popcorn.

Preachy popcorn!

A couple weeks ago, a bag of butter movie popcorn was bought at Big Lots and it was delicious, and like a deranged and obsessed popcorn junkie, I’ve been wanting more of that popcorn since. Important note – Family Dollar Movie Theater Popcorn is not nearly as good. It has a weird flavor like from a weird oil that at first borders on gross, but fades after a bit if you just keep shoveling it in. It’s extra salty. The bag claims that "life is so delicious" but the popcorn isn't really. And bonus, there is a Bible message on the package, because who doesn’t want to be preached at by inferior, weird flavored snack food? 

Powered by the crappy popcorn, the new shovel helped to transplant more irises and plant the maroon mum that had been in a pot on the steps. Then, Don Draper the push mower facilitated the mowing of the yard, because the gas mower wouldn't start again and seems to be officially deceased. The crappy popcorn provided the power to get some stuff done. Or maybe it was the bible verse, although I kind of doubt it.