12 roofers roofing

23 Apr

Well, actually, far fewer today, thank goodness.  They have moved the noisy air compressor to the other side so it is much more tolerable.  And they are banging less.  Their ladders and such are all in front of my bedroom window though which I’m sure has nothing to do with the fact that I am entertaining guests in the bedroom.  I joke, wee fan base, I joke.

Oh, just now it is loud again with those loud drilly things.  Oh, we had been doing so so well.  They are either speaking Spanish or Tagalog.  Sometimes I think Tagalog, sometimes Spanish and sometimes I think like maybe a dead language like Latin.  Why would the roofers be speaking a dead language like Latin?  True.  But why not?  I’ll stick my head out in a minute and ask if they are speaking Latin and if so, I will ask them to come inside and perform a traditional Catholic mass but not with communion by intinction as we all know that is how I got that never ending virus from that communion time at my wee United Church. 

“That is not how you got it,” insists Rev. Beth, since she notes that I no longer partake in the monthly communion.

“Is too,” I say.

Rev. Beth is in Seattle this week with Mr. Rev. Beth (also a minister) as they are taking a course.  If I have a spiritual emergency (or if anyone in the congregation does), they are just supposed to ‘suck it up.’  Ha, I joke.  Actually, the Wed. evening Hebrew scholar bible study minister that I enjoy is the emergency contact.  Good, good, comforting.

I woke up this morning (for which I am thankful for) and was all in a twitter because I knew it was going to be another long unemployed day.  Oh, now the roofers are suddenly making a whole new loud noise.  Anyway, I paced for a few minutes.  I sent out a few more resumes, obsessively checked my phone to make sure it worked and etc (actually, it broke down for a few minutes this afternoon, horrors).   Pace, pace, a welling of panic.  My teeth throbbed, my heart throbbed (as a youth, my main heart throbs were Shawn Cassidy, Leif Garrett, John Travolta (eww) and Anson Williams.  Oh and Matthew unspellable last name from Little house on the prairie (he played Albert).  I sent him a long fan letter I remember but it came back, address unknown. Sniffle.  Oh and Richard Dean Anderson!  Pre-Macgyver days, General Hospital days. Apparently I wrote him some poems because I remember getting a postcard back with his pic on it, some generic typed stuff and IN HANDWRITING HIS I AM SURE  ‘great poems!’ I remember this so clearly.  Wish I’d kept the postcard.  Heart throb throb), etc.  It’s tricky this week after week after week, never knowing when it will end, when an actual job that lasts will turn up.

So I biked up to UBC and had coffee with my ELI former great boss, S.  We are very similar in our love of yakkity yakking.  And I thank her, because I had a whole lot of yakkity yak stored up which she let me, well, yak out.  We even talked a little celebrity gossip!  And our mutual love of Johnny Depp, although I pointed out that I think he’s gone off the rails as of late.  Man-child type thing.  She didn’t know of the Jolie-Pitt engagement so I filled her in.  It’s not often that you can yakkity yak with a boss.  I enjoy this boss even though she has zero pull in getting me more work.  That’s true boss love, people.

Tomorrow morning, oh the excitement, I am going to one of the new employment centres and getting a new case manager.  I even have an appointment time.  This case manager can’t actually do anything for me but an appointment!  I put it on my calendar in case I forgot that I have an appointment!

The Latin roofers’ drilling sounds like a dentist’s drill. Mass shall begin at 5.  Come on by if you like.

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