||[Nov. 6th, 2018|09:23 pm]
Well, I've been chiropracted for another month. The next appointment should be the last of the year. I have appointments every four weeks, when possible, but the first one next year would be on Tuesday, January 1, which is very unlikely to happen, so I guess I'll be waiting five weeks and going on Tuesday the 8th. This is assuming that there is a next year, of course, and a me to be in it, and a chiropractor to yank my head about. It's all so tentative, the future. |
Though the afternoon was fairly balmy, it's already down to 56 degrees tonight, heading toward 44. Brrr. I just got a recorded telephone call from PG&E, the utility company, warning that it's going to get intermittently windy for the rest of the week and there might be power outages. It's also unusually dry for the time of year, so the fire danger is high. Thanks, PG&E. I really didn't have enough crap to worry about right now.
This afternoon I got an email from AT&T telling me that I hadn't paid my phone/Internets bill this month. Crap! I totally forgot! I paid by telephone immediately, but this means I now have about seventy dollars less in my checking account than I'd thought I had. That, in turn, means I might have to delay the second installment of my property taxes for month. I had intended to pay it in early February, but if I have that much less I'll be at risk of an overdraft then, so I'll probably have to wait until March. Of course it depends on how high the PG&E bills are this winter. If it's not too cold I won't use as much gas, and I might still be able to pay the rest of the tax in February.
I remembered to stop off at Safeway on my way home, so I now have bread for a sandwich tonight. Now if only I had remembered to buy a tomato, too. I only have one on hand, and might want it for something else later in the week. But since it might get really windy and the town might burn down I probably shouldn't worry about a shortage of one tomato. I'm just going to go make that sandwich and open a bottle of Modelo dark beer. But I wish it was going to be a roast beef sandwich from Greenblatt's Delicatessen in Hollywood. They won't deliver this far north, though. They never come up into the hills. At least not these hills.