17th day sober. I went to sleep at almost 6AM last night/this morning and woke up at about 2 in the afternoon which is about 8 hours. I packed a couple more things, and after tea and vitamins and nuts, fixed up a big egg salad and ate that.
I took off at about 6 and did the post office run. Ebay's big bugaboo seems to be with shipping times, and the only way to really improve those is to ship every day even if it's not that many things.
The post office featured a Black zombie staggering and talking to itself but it was surprisingly well-behaved once it saw I had my "explainer" handy. It even wandered out of the post office, out front, and then down the street to do ... zombie stuff I guess.
I stopped at H Mart and got a bunch of stuff yet it was still only $18 and change; shopping's a lot cheaper when alcohol's not involved.
I stopped by Tom's place on the way back and dropped off a trumpet cleaning snake, valve oil, slide grease, and a brand new tube of Blistex which he might find handy. Tom's truck was there but he didn't seem to be so he was off walking around or riding his bike, so I just put the stuff in the mail slot as I said I would.
Tom had apparently gotten the 3X4's loose from the rest of the lumber, and has a big messy pile of the other pieces by his front door, and nails. just. everywhere. After I'd left last night, he probably got some lights out, got his drink on, and just obsessively worked on it. That's how he'd ended up getting all those little animal figurines he'd ordered on Ebay - gotten super drunk, ordered the things, then in the morning wondered why there were all these boxes on his front yard. He had no memory of having bought them.
Still, he has trumpet experience, was in concert band in high school, and I'd love to not only see him get into it but see someone compete with that awful "Trumpetman" downtown who Sharks fans have to endure hearing, under the bridge, as they walk to and from games.
I came back here along Bayshore so I could look and see how much of the Smithfield complex was turned into rubble. The answer is: All of it. And the piles of rubble are being hauled off too. On the way there I'd passed a nasty looking scumsucker who didn't seem interested in hassling me either because it was on the way to meet its crack dealer, or the fact that I keep the ol' "explainer" in my hand, or both.
This is why I hope once the Smithfield complex is all cleaned up, construction starts right away. That will mean security patrols will be a continuing thing. The alternative is scumsucker problems again. The thing with scumsuckers is first, they're batshit crazy. An example is "Crazy Chrissie" who was convinced I was part of a secret cabal devoted to tossing rocks at her truck right when she's servicing a john, causing him to go limp and Crazy Chrissie to not get that luscious crack rock.
You can have no interactions with a scumsucker at all, but they'll be convinced you're out to get them because a voice out of their cigarette pack told them to, or an imaginary face in the clouds, or anything the crack-addled mind can imagine. I think it's somewhat akin to the mentally ill people who believe in "gang stalking" like there are actually groups of people with nothing better to do than follow them around, "zap" them with some kind of electrical beams, etc. Batshit crazy. This is why decent people who have any common sense strive to have no interactions with scumsuckers, ever.
I decided to get my evening going by packing things, and for some reason Ebay "won't accept payment" for things sent by the US Postal Service. I called Ken and asked him what kind of financial trouble he was in now, and he said he wasn't in any, but had a "whole" $250 in his PayPal which "should" be enough. Since I'm so far ahead on shipping now, if the situation isn't resolved by tomorrow, Ken will take the USPS packages and ship them from his personal account from the house. I just don't get how I can make 1/10th what Ken does and have about 10X the financial reserves.
But this just points out that things can go all 1929 around here at any time and probably, as in 1929, with little warning.
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