“Remoted” – Day 540 (Tuesday)

Tomato pie!

Today, the first, and so far only, tomato pie of the season was constructed. The family tomato farmer had said a few weeks ago that the tomatoes were late due to the weather over the summer, but they are ready now. While at Mom’s on Monday, I was gifted with two large ones. This proved to be a good amount for the pie. My basil has been rather sad looking all summer, but I managed to harvest enough leaves for the pie. It turned out there was no green onion, onion, dried onion, frozen onion, or even onion salt, so the pie was lacking that flavor element, but it was okay. The cheese and tomato are the flavors I crave anyway. 

Food production will be increasing throughout this week, in an effort to make life a bit easier next week. With planning, I can minimize next week's lunch and/or supper headaches. There are now portions of quiche and tomato pie in the freezer. It's a start.

While the commute is only two miles, it used to take as long as 15 minutes to exit the parking garage when leaving the office at 5:00. The travel time was anywhere from 10 to 20 minutes depending upon traffic volume due to construction detours, activity at the high school and Tsongas Arena, and foot and auto traffic around the University. To avoid some of this and let the garage volume clear before I was swearing in it, I used to stay at the office until close to 5:30, and often didn’t get home until 6:00. It will be interesting to see how much things are the same. Or different.

All of this feels like a great argument in favor of walking to work, which is a more direct and shorter route. It might be easier to tackle if I had done anything at all for the past 18 months. Unfortunately, I might be hobbled after attempting the journey without some sort of breaking in period. The two days I was in the office over the summer, my shins hurt for a couple days after the quarter mile trip between the garage and office, and I didn't even think about taking the stairs to the fourth floor like I always used to do. I have five days left to get into shape. Oy.

“Remoted” – Day 539 (Monday)

Even with going to bed earlier than usual on Sunday night, I managed to sleep until 8:00 this morning. As usual, when I sleep late, it is weird dreams that often wake me up. In this morning’s dream, I was working at Kohl’s again. The store was different, and mostly I stood near customer service directing customers through a Disney-esque queue and chatting. Lunch took place in another building which involved crossing a wide expanse of asphalt parking lot and dodging heavy pedestrian traffic in the rain. At lunch, I realized it was my second day and I had never clocked in or out and didn’t know my employee number or where the time clock was.

Once awake, no surprise, Kohl’s was on the brain. A check of the website revealed that the denim sale was still on, Kohl’s cash was being doled out, and there was an active coupon for $10 off $25. After a quick call with Mom, the day shaped up to a visit to Kohl’s in Leominster and then continuing to Mom’s, just a few more miles down Route 2.

Magic happened. Kohl’s was not packed like I feared it might be. The store was neat and easy to navigate. The mission was clear – jeans. Seven or eight pairs of jeans were tried on. All of them fit, but there were varying degrees of flattering. Two pairs were chosen. A quick trip to the shoe department yielded a pair of booties on clearance at 85% off, which made the cost practically free. On the way to the checkout a quick detour was made to a rack of blouses and one was selected. The blouse, in a dusky teal with a small floral print, is part of an effort to diversify the closet, which contains a shockingly large collection of plaid and camo pattern tops. Even with the brief checkout line, the entire Kohl’s experience took 45 minutes and earned $15 in Kohl's cash. Truly miraculous. A dream, really.

After lunch and a visit with Mom, a quick stop was made at Ocean State Lob Lot for pantry items. Chopped garlic, pitted black olives, tea, maple crème cookies, and the bonus items of nail polish and a 2022 padded journal book in the style I’ve been using for about five or six years were found. The year 2020 was rough, 2021 has been even rougher, but maybe, just maybe, 2022, with a new cherry red padded daily journal book, will be better. I can hope.

As if that wasn’t enough shopping for one day, a stop was made at Family Dollar for sour cream for the Swedish meatball craving currently developing, and more little kid size 3 diapers for Winnie’s potty belt which will allow me to leave the house 34 times. The idea of regularly leaving the house is top of mind with the return to the office next Monday. Oy. The final countdown.

The shopping, the planning, and the nerves all feel oddly reminiscent of the lead up to the first day of school. The most notable difference is, I always looked forward to returning to school, but the looming return to the office under the new hybrid office-remote plan is feeling less exciting and more stressful.

“Remoted” – Day 538 (Sunday)

Today was spent in thought. I thought about doing things – making a puzzle, reading a book – then did not. As I watched Annette, a movie on one of the streaming services, at a frequency of approximately once every few minutes, the thought ran through my head, “What in the hell am I watching?”

Mushroom and cheese quiche.

Early in the day, I flipped through the Finnish cookbook hoping to be inspired by recipes to make on a gray and dreary day. A couple were reviewed, but one had too many steps – making a dough, making rice or mashed potatoes to go into the dough, then baking 12 to 24 tart things. Another lacked key ingredients. Instead of Finnish food, thoughts shifted to the provisions in the fridge, and a most tasty mushroom and cheese quiche was produced. 

The gloomy weather meant lights were on. Noticing one of the lightbulbs is out in the ceiling fan in the living room prompted memories and thoughts. When the team from Mass Save came to my house to conduct an energy audit a few years ago, they replaced all my lightbulbs. The new bulbs were, according to both my recollection and the Mass Save website, “ENERGY STAR certified LED bulbs, which have a lifetime of at least 15,000 hours.” The propaganda to justify the additional cost sounds convincing – they last longer and use less energy, blah blah blah.  

By my rough and loose calculations, the now dead bulb in the living room, if used daily, would burn an average of three hours each night, and at seven days a week, that would be 1,092 hours a year and 4,368 hours over four years. This is significantly short of the promoted rate of 15,000 hours. And the usage estimate is high, because normally, the table lamp on a timer is the primary light in the room, and most nights, the ceiling light is not used at all. Consequently, I’m feeling a bit put out by the newly mandated lightbulb and its untimely demise.

There were musings of making a puzzle and even a trip upstairs to look at the puzzles. The choices for puzzles not yet made were cute puppies or fishing lures, and neither felt appealing. Three books sat on the ottoman and I thought about reading one of them, but it was dismissed and it was back to the streaming TV. I clearly watch too much streaming, as every service app I open to scroll the programs it’s, “saw it, saw it, looks dumb, saw it, don’t feel like reading subtitles, saw it.” I sometimes feel a bit guilty with so much passive screen time, but I’m also often not in the mood to do anything more active. Maybe someday.

“Remoted” – Day 537 (Saturday)

There was a bit of a morning rush today with one task on the morning schedule that could happen beginning at 7:00. Sleeping until 7:15 meant bolting out of bed, throwing on the first clothes I laid hands on and dashing downstairs. Winston was fed, the coffee was started, and I was out the door. The mission was to stake out a spot for the Rhiannon Giddens concert at Boarding House Park. At the park, I scored a spot towards the front in the “low chair” area of the lawn, where the chairs can be no higher than 12” above the ground.

The case of wine I forgot to cancel was due to deliver “by end of day,” a general time frame which has on some deliveries, meant 8:30 pm. It arrived at 9:30 am, which was terrific because I was home to sign for it. Now the bathroom closet is loaded with white wine and the dining room wine rack is loaded with red.

It lives again!

By noon, the recently incapacitated laptop was resurrected. For days, the unit sat with a 100% dead battery while I tried to figure out how to perform a backup and pull off personal info and passwords before sending it in for service under the additional warranty I bought with the laptop. It finally occurred to me that DUH, maybe the issue of the battery not charging wasn’t a battery problem so much as a charging cord issue. I ordered a new charging cable, which arrived this morning. It was plugged in, and in no time the battery was charged to 100%, I felt like a genius, and I nearly dislocated my shoulder trying to pat myself on the back. 

Rhiannon Giddens,
Francesco Turissi and
the guy whose name I forgot

The day could have stopped right there and it would have been deemed a success, but it continued to shine when friends arrived. We visited the new book store on Market Street, where I got  two volumes of The Lowell Review (2019 and 2021). Then we had supper at Warp and Weft which included an Impossible Burger and Ginger Beer before heading to the show. Over at Boarding House Park, the temperature was comfortable and Rhiannon Giddens, Francesco Turrisi, and the show was entertaining. 

It was a great day, bottom to top, earning a top rating of 5 stars.

“Remoted” – Day 536 (Friday)

The sun was out and the workday was the last one before a long weekend. The day's goal was declared -- to make it through the next nine hours without blowing a gasket. This is not a new goal, and mostly a repeat of the same goal set nearly every day.

While in the bathroom readying for the day, an open jar of face moisturizer somehow went sailing from the counter to the floor, spewing about a month’s worth of the precious dry-skin battling contents. Luckily, the container was a non-breakable material. The tile was easy to clean up and the rug is now sufficiently moisturized. The grumbling was limited to, “Well, it could have been worse,” while mopping up the mess. The first hiccup was handled calmly, an important step towards the don’t blow a gasket goal.

During the enjoyment of a pre-workday cup of coffee, peace and tranquility was interrupted by a robotic voice from the ceiling proclaiming “low batteries” which sent Winston scurrying out of the room in a panic and nearly spilled my coffee in my lap. The announcements had started around 1:00 am on Thursday and repeated every several hours, but I couldn’t figure out which of the many units was issuing the SOS. With two detectors in the upstairs landing, two on main level, and two in the basement it is usually a treasure hunt to figure out which needs attention. This morning, I was under the needy detector when it screamed for help, and paused the relaxing to put in new batteries. That’s when I learned the living room detector is for both smoke and carbon monoxide. I never took the time to read all the lettering on it when replacing batteries. It's amazing what you can learn when you pause for a second.

Overdone, but still tasty.

After the detector detective work, it was time for breakfast. There was some leftover Finnish pulla bread that had gotten a bit dry, making it perfect for toast. The remainder of the loaf was sliced and set in the toaster oven, but after one cycle it was still a bit anemic. It was put back in for “just a little longer” when Winston needed to go outside. The return from the back yard, less than a minute later, was met with smoke creeping from the toaster oven door, suggesting that perhaps it had now been “too long.” The bread was a bit beyond well done and jogging towards charcoal briquet. Oops. Swiped with butter, it still tasted good. Stuffing my mouth with toasted pulla kept me busy enough to not be irritated. 

Once logged in at work, I misread the part of an email where I was supposed to take action, and only saw the part where no action was needed. I cast it aside and moved on to other things. Several hours later, when someone from the next step in the process asked about the status, I realized what had happened. Danggit. It was fixed and apologies sent. I really hate when I screw up and it affects someone else.

The other night when it was cold and rainy, I made soup, but then I didn’t feel like eating it and packed it all away in the freezer. This greatly minimized the lunch options for today. It was ramen for the win, based on speed of preparation and the fact there are still about a dozen bricks of it in the cabinet from the time I accidentally bought two cases and even after bringing one case to my sister's house. Even with the uppity haute cuisine addition of mushrooms sauteed in butter, the ramen was faster than dealing with a frozen block of the homemade soup.

Overall, despite the minor fumbles and hiccups, the goal of not blowing a gasket was achieved. With success declared, it’s time to celebrate, maybe with a nice glass of wine. I forgot to cancel the wine club order after barely touching the last delivery, and the fine folks at Fed Ex informed me that a new case will be arriving tomorrow, so I need room.  Too much wine on hand sounds like the best scenario possible.

“Remoted” – Day 535 (Thursday)

Me. A lot lately.
Thanks Very Finnish Problems.

Today started out annoying. This was layered atop my new normal baseline of simmering anger and annoyance, which replaced the old new normal of feeling completely dead inside. Progress? We’ll see. There is actually a delightful Finnish word for this, "vitutus," which makes me feel approximately one degree better about it. 

Work is moving to a new authentication step and there was a long email this morning about it and what to do to prepare for some other changes coming soon. The changes are good overall, but require the downloading of an app, which for me was bad. Very, very bad.

My phone storage is full. It has been for a while, and for a couple months, alerts appear that some functions may not work. There was already one app loaded that is required for one work task done occasionally, and, according to the info on the phone, 90 other apps. Most of the apps came with the phone or randomly appeared after phone updates, but when I tried to get rid of many of them, there was an error message that other functions may not work correctly. Pray tell, why are there “Google Input” apps for Indic, Japanese, Korea, Pinyin, Zhuyin? No idea. But efforts to disable (there is no uninstall option) deliver an error message about “other apps may no longer function as intended.” What other apps? What functions? It’s the same scenario for many of the other apps. It might just be a scare tactic. Or not. I don’t know. 

What is this?

The ongoing full storage situation prevented downloading the new mandatory app, which required clearing space. I deleted several apps, including Yahoo News, which I actually use daily. Well, it's now “used.” It wasn’t enough. I deleted some photos. It wasn’t enough. I finally sucked it up and deleted Woodoku, the only game on the phone and the primary portable tool that let me slip into a mostly mindless state that crowded out active thought and emotion for the past rotten and awful weeks since losing my brother and then Moose.

The Woodoku sacrifice to the digital gods finally created enough space for the stupid required app. It also made me want to throw the phone onto the floor and stomp on it like a cartoon character. I pouted and sulked instead, which is much less expensive. A new phone is not in the budget, especially after the recent purchases of a vehicle and new water tank. Even when royally miffed, I can still manage to be practical.

Once the app was loaded, a trip back through older emails was required to find an earlier tutorial about linking the app to the work stuff. The entire nonsensical process occupied a gigantic chunk of the morning, which, in addition to having to make personal sacrifices on my personal phone for a work thing, kind of pissed me off. A lot. After the lengthy morning diversion, it was time to get busy with actual work, and the day improved markedly with more easily accomplished tasks.

Now that the app is on the phone and my one game is gone, all I can say is, I better need that stinking app all day every danged day.

“Remoted” – Day 534 (Wednesday)

Treasures are found when least expected, and often seem brutally elusive when actively sought.

A couple months ago, I checked a couple old email accounts to look for a message on an old stock thing from before husband number two when I had a different last name and used a different email account. There were several old accounts, including one used for freelance writing projects, one for photography, one for personal messages.

It had been a while, maybe years, since I last checked the old accounts. Surprise! The accounts still exist, but the contents were gone. All of it – inbox, sent, drafts – empty. It was depressing. I guess the mail servers purge content from accounts after a long period of inactivity. Oops.

Worse than just the specific missing stock message – there were also writings I had done years ago. Some of the content was freelance work, in other cases, it was personal writing I sent to myself so it could be stored on the email server for “safekeeping.” This was my great plan from before the cloud and back when technology had already rendered my floppy disks obsolete, but before PCs stopped having disk drives to read the storage that followed. The rate of change and built-in obsolescence of technology is infuriating.

Treasure found!

Yesterday, I was looking for work samples from my old agency job for ideas for a current project. I remembered working on brochures with crazy panel counts and interesting fold patterns. I found one potential piece in a folder labeled “samples,” along with another folder containing something even more exciting – hard copies of several old pieces of my writing, including two done while in Korea. The Korea stories were definitely in one of the old email accounts because I had sent them to friends while still in there, and in the box of 3.5 inch floppy disks chucked before moving back from Tennessee. 

Now, if I could just find the rest of the old work samples I’m sure I have. Oh, and the rest of the volumes of writing of long ago, including that paper on "The Wife of Bath" written in college. A hard copy of that stock email I was looking for would also be super swell.