Got some nice sheets for my apt today, along with a shower curtain and a couple other things. Didn't do much else. I guess I won't be tripping to the apt tomorrow. Maybe Thursday. I dunno. Getting really lazy around here. But I fixed the spigot outside, so I can nail the boards down. But I found out that the other piping system's leaking like a sieve, so that's a big project right there. Man, this house always has something.
On the plus side, we got a letter from our lawyers, and checks to boot! I can completely wipe out a credit card now.
I went to the Y about a month ago (I am just now recalling this memory), and was driving downt the little alley beside the parking garage I park in. There's two of those little chest-high electric turn-stiles there, where you push the big button and receive the little stamped ticket and the buzz and the arm elevates and you drive on through. As I was pulling alongside the turn-stile, I reached out my left arm to push the button and as I was reaching, with my fingers slightly curved palmwise and my palm angled almost parallel to the pavement, I didn't feel my arm anymore, but I felf what I would perhaps feel if I had an animal's foreleg and paw, scaled to me. It was feeling my fingers as though they were the long claws that tip the paws of skunks. I even found it more comfortable to not bend my fingers as I pushed the button, as though I was only mashing it. Getting my ticket, and driving on, I then promptly forgot about it. And then, the next day, as I was getting my ticket again, I had the same feeling. I, here and now, find that very weird.
My father, after he got sick, decided to make a video tape of himself talking about certain things (I don't know what they were exactly), addressing them to my mother, and then to me and my sister. Unfortunately, the video camera cut out after about 5 minutes of what would've been a couple hours of talking. It was, I think, an easy way for him to express things to his family before he forgot them, or before he (god forbid) died. We never got to hear the things he wanted to say to us, and we never will. I was touched that he tried, though. He had a lot to share with his young children, and a lot to tell his wife. After so many years, I have long since forgiven him of everything bad he did to me and my family and his friends. I hope I get the chance to tell my family and friends certain things before I lose the opportunity. Wasted opportunities are some of the most awful of life's flaws.