August 21, 2020

Rainy Friday. 

Oddly, last time after the cleaning lady’s visitation things were fouled up in my study, and the same seems to have happened yesterday. My keyboard did not function. I tried one I kept around (after it had stopped functioning) and it worked fine. Did she switch keyboards somehow? Think it would be a joke? Did she have nothing whatever to do with it and there are other sorts of gremlins? My CD player also died between Wednesday and today. Maybe digging up material on the house I called Rick Turpin’s name and he decided to come back for a visitation. 

Traffic slowed on Lakeshore to accommodate a procession of turkeys, surprisingly large animals. 

Ran into Tom at the post office. He tried, and failed, to mail a gigantic box (a toy he’d sole on Ebay). He sold the toy for $60 and postage would be $100. He had to speak. I didn’t recognize him under the mask. Made plans to meet for coffee. Will we? 

My ordinarily uneventful life rendered catatonic by the quarantine. Plenty going on in the imaginary world, but all that gets set down on other pages.