Yesterday was a rough day. I didn’t sleep for crap and then I had a bad computer day. I have one of those every six months or so. Everything just goes whacky at once. I couldn’t get the blog thing to work at all. It took forever and when I tried to save what I had written, it wouldn’t save it and I would have to start all over again. And another program I use wasn’t working, and I saw they were changing their server and I wondered if that was the problem. But there was no way I could find out anything, because the blog is hosted on Yahoo, and trying to get in touch with anybody at Yahoo is like trying to get in contact with the Queen of England or something. It takes like hours on the phone and you end up talking to somebody in India who knows real good English but nothing else.
And anyway you never know where the problem is: with them, or with your computer, or maybe with the web browser you are using to get in contact with them, and then I wondered if the Java script was screwed up because I saw a new download was ready for that. So it was like a huge confluence of bad computer stuff, and I spent too much of the day obsessively trying to figure out the problem by clicking on this and that and trying to clean out the guts of my computer in case something had gotten stuck in there and was clogging up the works. Of course, when you clean out stuff there’s always the chance you will take out something your computer needs and messing stuff up even further.
And then we had this guy come over to give us a bid about putting in a window because we want, as part of the general cleanup, to turn our large walk-in closet into a small office for me. And then another person came to give an estimate from a place called California Closets that specializes in closets, as you might have guessed, to see what they might do to most efficiently organize the small space in the large closet. So by mid afternoon, I am ready to shot myself because I just hate construction stuff and waiting on people to get their butts moving and then being anxious about whether they will do it right or not, and of course there’s the issue of money.
Later on I began to realize that part of my foul mood had to do with the fact that this whole closet thing is part of the preparation we are trying to make for my retirement. So like when I do get to that point I will be able to have a more organized living space. And deep down inside, I get to feeling that this preparing for my retirement is like digging my own damn grave.
The grave digging idea was like driven in with a hammer when just before retiring I checked and saw I had an email from a guy I knew in college and he had sent along a picture of a number of us from back in college asking me if I could identify a couple of people in the picture, since he couldn’t remember. And there I was in the picture—all bearded on the far right and my girl friend next to me and other people I had known forty years ago. . Emotionally, psychologically I was back then so really far out of it that I just don’t know if I was really capable of knowing another person. And that made me sad thinking of all I may have missed because I was so busy just trying to keep myself from falling apart.
But what the hell?