June 2, 2020

Esther has declared a curfew for Asheville beginning at 8 PM. I haven’t been out of the house after 8 PM in three months; nevertheless, I chafe and grumble, wondering what to do if I need to get out after 8. Asheville’s demonstrations haven’t made national news. They say there are graffiti downtown. I picture myself at a demonstration dragging around on my bum leg, trying to outrun teargas canisters.

Stirred up a hornets’s nest at TIAA. Having received no response from my designated adviser (over a period of months) I called Mr P, who helped me royally. He calls saying that he’s in trouble over some bailiwick issue, and could I please take a call from my regular rep, who, after ignoring me , and after her assistant made an appointment for June 11, emails and wants to speak with me today. This shouldn’t be that hard. All someone had to do was tell me how much, when, and how, and it was harder than it ought to have been to get those answers. Pandemic, maybe. People think I'm abrupt. In my world it's me acting finally after extended periods of delay.