Meet Sparrow, an average man passing an average life…
Monday, April 28
I’ve decided I’ve got to start sleeping more on Sundays…I get up in the early afternoon feeling pretty good, and morning coffee helps, but by 1900 or so I’m tired and ready to sleep and then BOOM before you know it, it’s time to head into the hotel…Now, I do get most of the day’s project work done, but the idle hours at the hotel – prime on-the-clock project work time – are pretty much wasted.
I was weary enuff this morning that I accomplished virtually nothing…I was even a failure resting…The audit was done a bit after midnight and project work was done soon after and I put my feet up on the desk in the back office and I couldn’t even fall asleep properly.
And it doesn’t help that I’m back to using the can every three hours or so when I’m sleeping…I don’t know what the deal is…I’m eating pretty good, doing carrot juice and kombucha and even some green juice every now and then, plus my supplements, but the past few sleep sessions Mr Bladder has really been going at it.
There was more margarita hand sanitizer madness at the hotel as Q was all but doing shots of the stuff when I reported for duty…He excitedly heralded its presence to me when I walked in and sanitized his hands no less than three times in the few minutes before he left, gleefully noting a local distillery had provided us with margarita-themed hand sanitizer.
The big news is the restaurant is reopening for takeout orders starting this afternoon, from 1600-1900…It’s been closed since April 18 and I know that not because I’m the All-Knowing, but because the report of the 17th is the last one generated and is still in the Night Audit Reports file.
In other food news, I still haven’t gotten around to cooking anything more complicated than carrot juice, even tho I’m on record as wanting to…While I did fail to buy stuff for beef or meatloaf Wellington as I had dreamt about, I am ready to go with spaghetti anytime I want…I probably should because I could save enough to eat throughout the week.
It’s the same deal with those two #10 cans of chili I hoarded a few weeks back…It was stupid of me, tho at the time it wasn’t known if I’d be unemployed and broke or not and whether or not food would be available…As it is, I’m doing OK and I should probably put the chili in a big pot and throw in some meat and maybe some SPAM, though I don’t think the potted meat would be particularly appropriate here…Actually, I have this notion – as romantic as it whack – of letting it simmer all day with yours truly strutting around the kitchen in an apron drinking wine while tending to its preparation.
Pa Sparrow made great chili growing up…A very simple recipe, some ground beef, chili powder, onions, bell peppers, kidney beans and I think a can of tomato soup…I got it from him when I left home but long ago lost it, but maybe my current chili fantasy of mine turns out better than his, which it probably won’t and, frankly, I’ll settle for it being good enuff to not have to throw out.
I paid the Internet bill this afternoon…This has been a fiasco for over a month…Recall The Ex and I had gone to the utilities in town and had them put in my name and arranged for automatic payments to be deducted from my bank account…Well, the Internet provider was the only fly in the ointment…I’d go online and try to QuickPay the bill but was never allowed to and I never remembered to call during the two-and-a-half hours every third Monday their “service” department is open…I was determined to today, tho, because the last bill I have from them is dated March 1 and even a loser like me knows it’s, probably, time to pay it.
So I go online and the wonders of QuickPay are still denied me so I open an online chat and get the automated, virtual agent and I start working that but I also call them and the guy says their system is down but assures me transfer to their QuickPay would solve all my problems and even make my clothes springtime fresh again and I want to tell him his beloved QuickPay isn’t fucking working but I can’t because I’m transferred immediately and I’m prompted to enter some information and then BOOM I’m right back talking to an operator again.
Now, on the online chat front, I’ve provided enuff automated responses so I am now chatting with an agent, so I am connected to two live humans on two separate mediums and the race is on to see who can process my payment first.
It turns out it’s the lady on the phone…It seems the problem was when The Ex and I transferred service into my name the company established a whole new account…Or, rather, a second account under the same account number…I guess…I don’t know…It was all very confusing…Plus, they were sending the new bill directly to The Shire but there isn’t residential mail service in our small town, only post office boxes…It took a few minutes, but everything got squared away…I paid off a modest balance on the old account and got the new one up-to-date, too.
Sparrow’s Sleep Log: 1600 Monday until 2130 Monday…5.5 hours for the day and I don’t have the weekly total handy…Apologies are issued.
1600 is a bit later than we usually get to sleep on Mondays, but it was good rest, I slept straight thru and, besides, regular readers of this crap know it’s all you can get sleep on Tuesdays so what the hell.
The Diary of a Nobody is a novel. All elements are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Anything else is a coincidence.
It was inspired by the 19th-century British novel of the same name.
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