The Weekend

 Saturday, Tinkerbell and her boyfriend brought T-Rex across town to spend time with his girlfriend before he goes away to camp for six weeks. T-Rex met his girlfriend at the Fishfly Festival, Tinkerbell, her boyfriend, and I tagged along to the festival.

The day was humid and overcast, but we did not get the rain that flood Detroit just thirty minutes away. In the city, they received 6 inches of rain in twenty-four hours. Many of the freeways were still flood Monday, and more rain in on the way.

Fifteen-year-old T-Rex is over 6 feet tall.  He is a good-looking gangly kid who towers over his short curly hair girlfriend. The Fishfly festival was lame this year. Probably partly to do with the limited time they had to organize it this year. I must admit, it isn't very exciting on a good year.  We sat outside and had drinks while the kids walked up and down the two blocks of carnival rides. Even the kids got bored quickly and headed off to her house.

The three of us entertained ourselves by walking past Tinkerbell's old condo and making rude comments about the new owner's lack of upkeep.

Sunday, I had a video call with Firefly for thirty minutes. The call starts, and I see what looks like a break room with closed doors in the background and a staircase leading to the second level of closed doors. Firefly comes bounding down the staircase and picks up a phone. She is centered on my phone.

She has a smile on her face. She looks healthy. She has "prison make-up" around her eyes, made from color pencils. She says that is what you do when you are bored. She is hoping the judge signs off on her request to go to rehab Monday (today). Then she will be transferred directly to rehab from the jail. She can walk out of rehab, but she would have a warrant out for her arrest.

She doesn't seem to want this.  It isn't going to be a fancy rehab like the ones she has attended in Florida, Texas, and most recently in Las Vegas, but she sounds determined to stay there for thirty to ninety days. Her determination is due to wanting to avoid further time in jail. At some point, I hope it shifts to wanting to enjoy other things in life.

Sick Of The Drive

 After successfully doing my job from home for over a year, I find driving into the office to be soul-crushing. My goal is to find a more progressive-thinking company. The truck will be paid off two years from now, and I hope to have most of what is left on my mortgage paid off.  Once that is complete, I will be willing to take a pay cut to enjoy a little more flexibility.

The older I get, the less patience I have for things that don’t make sense. Fighting traffic and sitting in a cubicle because someone thinks I am more productive is ridiculous. My boss is trying to engage with people. He is trying to make it appear as if we can collaborate better in the office.  There are forty people in our office. I will discuss work with anyone I need to discuss things with, but I only engage regularly with two people.

Today is Friday, one of the last official work from home days I am taking, although you can bet there will be many unofficial ones. You won't find me driving through winter snowstorms to get to a cubicle. Yes, I know the truck can climb Mt. Everest, but why should I battle the other people on the road. I have done my part to raise this issue with management. I don't think anyone disagrees. A few are afraid to speak up. 

I think it is all about timing. When they start major road construction in front of our office. I will again be questioning the sense of coming in every day.

The Verdict, for Now

 Firefly's hearing was today. The judge did not reduce her bond. It would still cost $2000 to bail her out and the person could be on the hook for $20,000 if she didn't show up for her court date. I am not signing up for that. The judge assigned her case to drug court. It will take some time for the paperwork to go through. She will be in jail until then.

Firefly was not happy when I indicated I would not be bailing her out. 

"I'm sorry dear. I am not signing up to that," I intoned. 

"No, you are not sorry. Obviously, you don't care about me."

"That's not true but you can think what you want."

I never paid that much to bail Billie out, and Firefly is not Billie. I think jail is the safest place for her right now. Who knows what she is really thinking. She sounds more like an addict who wants to get out and score than a person suffering in jail. A few more weeks of forced sobriety can only help. It is time to do a little growing up and perhaps find some humility. 

I feel anything I do for her is out of the goodness of my heart. I am not getting anything out of it. Her previous actions don't merit any favors. Still, I wish it worked out better for her.

Slow News Day

My book is part of a free Amazon Prime giveaway for anyone with a Kindle. You can't lose :).

I am convinced my staircase will be the death of me. My cat will trip me during one of my late-night descents, and I will break my neck. The cat will proceed to sustain herself by feed off the body until the corpse is found. Just saying.

On father's day, Max came over. he ordered food, and we played Warhammer 40k. I won, although it was close.

I'm still not a big fan of the game, but I think that is partly because I don't want to start painting my own figures. I have enough unfinished hobbies around the house. 

I feel I need to make a list of home improvements to tackle this year.  Minor repairs mostly, but I won't start anything inside until the end of summer or the fall. I don't plan on moving soon, but it doesn't hurt to keep the place up. 

Car Update

 I found Firefly's car.  It is in a Walmart parking lot just not the one she told me.  This Walmart is two miles south of the one she told me on the same road.  That right, it isn't only in the south that there is a Walmart on every corner. I still don't have a key, but the mother of the guy she was with is getting his stuff today and I think he was in possession of it. 

I did look inside the car. It was filled with her clothes, drugs, and trash. I am going to try moving it today.  I am not sure whether I will put it at my house or her parents. Everyone is suggesting not to bail her out. I am leaning that way also. I do not know what she is thinking or if she could possibly control herself long enough to get to rehab.

I feel like I have given her enough help. At this point, nothing would benefit me. It is sad but true. I went into this arrangement thinking it would be good for both of us. It hasn't helped her and it certainly hasn't done much for me. The court will mandate rehab. I am not sure if they will hold her until they find a spot. She could find a spot quicker on her own, but they won't allow her to go out of state. Guess we will know more on Tuesday.

Melancholy Friday

 I have started weaning off the Prednisone. I can feel its effects mentally. At least I know what is causing my depressive mood and poor sleep. Last night I dreamed of Billie. A depressive vignette of us reconnecting that I found myself diving back into over and over.

I remember the stupid things, the mood rings, the bracelets, and the beads
Nickels and dimes, yours and mine, did you cash in on your dreams?
You don't dream for me, no.
You don't dream for me, no.
But I still feel you pulsing like sonar from the days in the waves
That girl is like a sunburn
I would like to save
That the girl is like a sunburn
I would like to save
She's like a sunburn
She's like a sunburn.

I was listening to this song during my workout this morning and thinking about the past. This time each year, the small town near me, New Baltimore, has a Fishfly Festival.  It celebrates the coming out of the ground of the fishflys. A harmless little bug that lives for a day but swarms every light source at night and smells like a fish.

One year Billie and I went to the Fishfly carnival. She wore this blue patterned full-length lycra summer dress that clung to every curve of her body. /Her blond hair was short above her shoulders. She looked amazing. I will never forget that dress or the way it fit her.

Firefly is still in jail. Her court date is Tuesday, the twenty-second, but she does not feel like she will be released. She hopes the judge will send her to rehab, but that takes time and could keep her in jail for weeks. She thinks the judge will lower her bond. It would have to be very low before I consider bailing her out. I miss having the little muppet around, though, especially on days like today.

There's every good reason for letting you go

She's sneaky and smoked out

And it's starting to show

I'll never let you go.

I'll never let you go... Never Let You Go, Third Eye Blind

Business as Usual

 Well, things are almost back to normal. Yesterday, I spent the day in rural Michigan, or as I like to call it, 'the land of churches, Dollar stores, and cemeteries.' This was a work trip to our manufacturing facility to review the plant with six people from one of our customers. Few people are wearing masks, which is okay if you have been vaccinated.  It is amazing how many people in the red portion of my state have been vaccinated. Insert eye-roll here 🙄.

The steroids have not helped with the pressure or the ringing in my ear yet. I took two a day for a week. Tomorrow I start weaning back to one a day. I have good days and bad days but no silent days.

Max took down his TikTok account. He says it was a 'cringy community,' so he got bored of it. He does get bored of things easily. Seem to be a lot of people on there starving for attention and their fifteen minutes of fame. What has society come to?

My manager went with me on this work trip. I used the time alone on the 2.5-hour drive to put in a few jabs about us being back in the office full time. They seemed to roll off his back. He is a bachelor and lives ten minutes from the office. I think he likes coming into the office—besides, no one questions when he takes off early or works from home. So far, that actually goes for all of us. Everyone is silently doing what they need to do, just as long as it is not extreme—business as usual.