Three major minor accomplishments (at least for me).

A very good day today. 

Finally, my body’s sleeping clock seems to be shaking free of its night shift routine.  I woke up at nine o’clock in the morning, which is four hours sooner than I’m used to waking up.  And I didn’t even doze back to sleep after briefly slipping back under the covers because the house felt so chilly.    Most people say, “I’m not a morning person,” but I want to be a morning person.  I’m hoping to start waking up even earlier.  When I would be on vacation and wake up in the mornings I’d get so much accomplished.   Not just because it was vacation, but when I wake up in the afternoon, even though my day has just begun, because it’s afternoon, for me the day somehow feels as though it’s already over.

Next I stopped in the Dayton Visual Arts Center’s exhibit on “figurative fictions”, or painting as surrealistic narration, and particularly enjoyed the works of Robert McCann.  This was my first visit to the DVAC since moving here thirteen and a half years ago. 

   

Then I went to FedEx Kinko’s, which might not sound like much, but it was.  A couple years ago I had several magazines—some as old as 1996—with only an article or two I wanted to keep.  So I removed those pages, paperclipped them together and put them in a large tote.  Yesterday I opened up that tote full of recipes and how-to articles and starting putting the pages in plastic sheet protectors and then three ring binders.  But most of the pages were larger than letter-size and that’s where Kinko’s slide cutter came handy.  I must have stuffed over three hundred sheet protectors, but now I’ve gotten that information where it’s organized and accessible.

10 Reasons I’m Surviving the Writers’ Strike

I found last week’s Entertainment Weekly cover story offering readers suggestions on how they might “survive” the Writers’ Guild of America strike a little absurd, and puzzling.

 Surviving?  I’m doing just fine.  The following are ten reasons why:

         

         1.  Bloggers haven’t stopped blogging.

         2.  Podcasts haven’t stopped podcasting.

         3.  Novels and graphic novels are still being published.

         4.  Some of the original comedy I’ve watched on YouTube is funnier than some episodes of Saturday Night Live.

         5.  Reality television can be entertaining.  That’s because I include the Presidential race, shows that focus on green living, and how-to shows (especially Holmes on Homes) as reality television.

         6.  I now have time to catch up on fifty hours of unwatched programs still on my TiVo.

         7.  We might finally get an Academy Awards telecast that ends at a decent hour.

         8.  The shortened television season has allowed quality programs that probably would’ve gotten cancelled the opportunity to return in the Fall.  I believe that’s what saved NBC from giving Life the axe.  Of course, it bugs me to think that if only the strike had occured last year then The Class would still be on CBS.

         9.  I hate that 30 Rock’s second season only lasted ten episodes.  However, the strike is providing the writers of that show (which is a sitcom about a variety show) with a wealth of material when they return for a third season.

         10.  I haven’t forgotten that 90% of what comes out of Hollywood is crap anyway.

Ker-Ploosh! goes the toilet paper.

I stopped into Barnes and Noble this evening to have a vanilla latte and browse around.  I was looking for this book that is supposed to help a person determine what careers would best suit their personality and abilities. 

After awhile I had to use the restroom.  I chose the handicapped accessible stall like I always do because it’s so roomy.  Unfortunately, there was no paper seat cover dispenser.  I don’t consider myself a germaphobe, but years of using a nasty workplace restroom has made me cautious when it comes to toilet seats.  I myself use two layers when seat covers are available.  When there aren’t any, I take out three segments of toilet paper and cover the seat with that. 

Unfortunately, whoever the dummy was who changed the roll didn’t lock the clear plastic cover back up.  And because the roll is commercial grade toilet paper it will easily tear.  And for a makeshift seat cover you need at least two long side pieces.  You just do.  Of course, the loose plastic cover dropped down whenever I attempted to move the roll, so I had to hold it up with one hand while using my other to pull down some paper.

With commercial grade toilet paper, to get any more than two squares at a time, two hands are best because you can use the slow hand-over-hand technique to get a long strip.  Looking back now, because the cover was unlocked I could have taken the roll off and wound as much toilet paper as I wanted around my hand (make it look sort of like a mummy hand if I wanted to), unwound that into three pieces and laid them across the seat.  But, dopey me, when I pulled down my third and final strip, I pulled down on the roll a little too hard; and because the roll cover was not entirely up in place, the roll came off the roller and bounced into the toilet—Ker-ploosh!  I reached in quickly and grabbed it, but not before half the roll got soaked.

To make a long story short, I used the dry half.  But I couldn’t leave a half-soaked roll in the stall.  I had to get rid of it.  Meanwhile, someone else entered to use the sink, so I sort of waited to exit the stall until they left so I could dump this half-soaked wheel of toilet tissue in the trash can by the door.  I didn’t want to explain to a stranger why I had it in my hand.

But I wanted to find an employee and tell them the handicapped stall was out of toilet paper.  I approached the information booth, but I stopped because a female employee was the only one there.  Part of my reason was that if I told a male employee directly, he could most likely go right into the men’s restroom during business hours and correct the problem.  However, another part is that suddenly I was an adolescent and didn’t want use the word toilet paper in front of a girl.  I don’t understand it, but I finally found the one male employee in the entire store up front at the register.  I had to wait in line, but I did tell him the handicapped stall was out of toilet paper.

Sigh.  All that because of no toilet seat covers.         

Don’t let the furnace eat my checking account!

I don’t know if I’m green-minded, thrifty, or just plain stubborn, but I’ve been keeping my house thermostat set at fifty degrees. Maybe it’s a combination of all three, but I refuse for that massive, energy-inefficient heating contraption called a furnace to rumble to life and start chomping on my checking account.

Remember Spot, the Munsters’ family pet that lived under the staircase and roared and breathed fire? That’s been my growing perception of my drafty old home’s forty year old furnace as natural gas prices have soared over the past few years.

And yes, spray foam insulation in the walls and vinyl window replacements would make a big difference, but I’m never in the vicinity when suitcases full of money fall out of the sky. If I were then home improvement would be high on my list. Until then I spend the colder winter days dressed in layers and boosting the indoor temperature up with two electric space heaters.

It’s not too bad. When outside temperatures are in the high to mid-thirties the house retains enough warmth to be comfortable. But when temperatures dip into the twenties I don’t wander too far from the larger space heater, or I stay on the sofa covered by a heavy blanket. And earlier last week, when temperatures were in the teens, I surfed the internet with a blanket draped over my shoulders and the space heater right by my side.

All the while the furnace slumbered. Of course, I couldn’t do all my house cleaning under a blanket or wearing a coat, so my kitchen and bathroom suffered.

When last weekend’s artic cold front pushed through the north and Midwest and slammed temperatures down to zero and below, I was grateful I had made plans during Christmas to return to Indiana and help paint the house Mom had recently purchased for her expanding sewing business.

Unlike me, Mom doesn’t live in an old house and can run her energy efficient electric furnace and keep her house comfortably warm. But even the empty house I was painting had the thermostat set at fifty, but still felt more comfortable than mine. Maybe because the house is much smaller and doesn’t have high ceilings.

Not that I wasn’t tempted to leave a space heater on while I was away. But, no, I didn’t. I could tolerate the monster awakening for a bit. With temperatures in the single digits or less, it was bound to turn on. But when I returned I promised myself I’d find a way to put Spot back to sleep.

January is almost over. February is only one more month, and then the worst of winter will be past.

And is it worth all this trouble?

Well, today I got my annual property tax bill in the mail. $1,917! But you know what? I’ll be able to pay it in full. I won’t receive an unemployment check for another two weeks, but I’ll still have enough money to buy groceries, fill my gas tank and rent a few DVDs. Back in November, two months before the layoff, I took all I could afford and paid extra or made a few additional installments on car, mortgage, phone, internet, and utilities, so the next time I pay a bill will be in March. One bill I might have to write a check for? The heating bill. But it might end up being a small check. My tax return which I thought might have to go towards helping pay property taxes or covering my January or February heating expenditures can now go towards paying off my car.

So these next few weeks there might be some mornings where I’m wearing my heavy coat indoors while sitting close to a space heater. But it’s not so bad. The big difference between being in a cold house and being in debt is that it’s a lot easier to get out of the house.

It’s More Like a Relief Than a Layoff.

Friday night was my last shift at the factory where I’d been working at for six and a half years.   On Thursday the assistant supervisor handed me the envelope that I’ve seen other workers with lower clock numbers than mine receive in the past.  It’s the envelope with a letter from the company basically saying, “Torgoman, because business is down we’ll have to lay you off.  And when we say ‘lay you off’ we mean ‘say goodbye forever, unless a certain American car manufacturer would somehow decide to bring a hybrid or plug-in vehicle to the plant we’re supplying.  In which case, don’t hold your breath.”

The shift only lasted a little over four hours.  Coworkers, some leaving and others staying, came by and shook my hand and patted me on the back and wished me well.  A couple people took my picture.  After the last unit rolled off the line, however, I made a quiet exit while most everyone else mingled around.  I’m not really one for goodbyes.

The layoff was inevitable.  Another, larger one is expected in July.  Sure, I’ll miss the money.  $110 a day after taxes is a good salary nowadays for an assembly line worker.  However, the paycheck is all I’ll be missing.  If I would’ve gotten cut in July instead, I’d have been able to pay more towards the credit card bill and car payments.  But there was a sort of relief when the scheduled axe finally fell. 

The job has always been about the paycheck.  The money I received on Fridays compensated for working through some exhausting shifts and lousy nighttime hours with some occasionally frustrating people.  Or used to. 

Around the time the layoff rumors started something had already felt off.   There was an itch I didn’t know where to scratch, or how.  I couldn’t just attribute it to stress.  Much like how you can still feel hungry even after finishing a large meal because your system still lacks some essential nutrient, there’s something unrealized I have to experience or attempt.  Or rediscover. 

What is that exactly?  I haven’t the foggiest idea right now.  I think it’s several things actually.  But I wouldn’t be able to find it working at that factory.

Resolutions and Wishes for 2008

I believe it’s good to make resolutions for things you want to accomplish in a year as well as to make wishes for things you’d like to happen.

My resolutions for 2008:

• Finish painting the porch.

 Goodness knows there are lots of household projects that I’ll be working on this year, but finishing the porch, especially stripping the inside ceiling portion, will take a lot of time and would be an accomplishment.

• Pay off the MasterCard bill or the car in full.

I’d actually like to pay off both, but paying off at least one would be great.

• Consolodate all VCR tapes and handwritten journal entries onto a digital format.

These last couple of years I’ve been working at organizing and simplifying my life.  Emptying two stacks of eight total totes and consolidating it all onto an external hard drive and a flash drive would be a major accomplishment.  I’m actually excited about this one.

• Read at least 20 books.

Works of fiction or non-fiction.  Graphic novels don’t count.  I used to read.  Words meant something.  I want to go back to that.

• Learn Photoshop

Back before my old hard drive crashed, I was learning the basic toolbox functions with Adobe’s “Classroom in a Book” for Photoshop 5.0.  Yeah, that’s how long I’ve had the program.  But a couple months ago I reinstalled it onto a new hard drive with the intention of learning more about how layers and all the other bells and whistles work so I can restore some old family photographs as well as play around with pictures I’ve taken with my digital camera.

 My wishes for 2008:

• Someone will offer me money for my property so I can move.

Seriously.  McDonald’s?  Krispy Kreme?  Please, buy my property.  I will sell it for a fair price.  A drug store chain almost bought it years ago.  I’m tired of living on one of the busiest, nastiest streets in Dayton.  I’ll continue working on my house, but I’d move in a heartbeat if I could.

• Someone qualified gets elected President.

Right now I thinking an Obama/Edwards ticket would be great.  The nation needs a leader to help us start coming together and working on building a better future.

• The grassroots support for green, sustainable living continues to grow.

While the national government drags its feet, the interest around the nation is building.  2007 seemed like the year more people saw how green also meant practical.  I believe that interest will only continue to grow.