42 Dreams of Arizona Bay

What time is it?
It’s
 
BUNCO TIME!
The two-car garage is now a tight two-car garage after Heather had a flurry of cleaning the detritus left by the former owner. Some things she left were useful: tools, potting soil and spare paint. Now neatly arranged on a plastic shelving system assembled by Heather.
Things that were not useful included [...]

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I’ve tried to make a change to my savings account by using the phone. How wrong that was. I can’t get ahold of a human being.
This is the same bank that encourages as little human contact as possible in the bank itself. The bank that whenever I want to do something, I go into the [...]

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I don’t like flaky people.
I like people who do what they say.
I’m getting frustrated, trying to get rid of some moving boxes. I got some of my boxes from craigslist, and thought that would be the best way to return the favor.
Of course, the initial contact to get the boxes was not that good. The [...]

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I can hear the rain fall on the roof of the biggest, most expensive Christmas present I’ve ever gotten.
Rain.
At home, it would be snow, which doesn’t make a sound. Crisp air. Wheedling a fire out of my dad. Eggnog.
I love the rain, except driving in it. It just feels so odd. It doesn’t really feel like Christmas because [...]

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The ink is barely dry on the loan documents.
I’ve already received five solicitations for home mortgage insurance. Five. I’m sure there’s many more to come.
Leave me alone.

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I’m not a dirty person.
Sometimes messy. Often covered in cat hair, yes. But not filthy. The house always is clean enough; in a short while, it can be made presentable.
But it becomes apparent while trying to get out of the old place that dirt has a way of creeping up. It highlights negligence as a [...]

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No whammy! Big bucks! Big bucks!
I chanted this at my computer as I revived it from death.
Or mostly dead, like Westley in The Princess Bride.
MIRACLE MAX Hey! Hello in there! Hey! What’s so important? Whatcha got here, that’s worth living for?
My music. My pictures. My writing. My pocketbook.
I don’t know how long I’ve got it working [...]

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