My consciousness, that is. I was out walking this morning, pondering the universe as it my habit on such excursions. It is a lovely morning and I am on a staycation. My work of late has been so boring that the highlight of my day yesterday was taking the next six days off, which were preceded by four days off. The second highlight of the day was ordering brassieres online. I am so fuxing bored. The database has been sent out to be cleaned and it won't be back in action for a few weeks yet. That is compounded by a server migration this weekend and I just had to run away. So I have been spending my days at work taking online courses in Excel, which I now excel in, and updated suppressed records of records, CDs that is, and adding a note to an item record that...Eureka, I found it! or something like that. What I don't find I add to an Excel spreadsheet and let me tell you it was more excited ordering bras. Now once the database has been cleaned and pressed I will have work up the wazoo. But until then CDs.
What I have discovered in doing these CDs for our Rovi Colleciton (the largest media collection on the planet) is that there is some nice music out there. I can listen to some of the CDs and sample what is out there. The other thing I have discovered is that anyone who can carry a tune (or not in some cases) can put out a CD. Take that you amateur. There are literally hundreds of CDs in each Banker Box and a great deal of it is crap, IMNSHO. This goes back to my ruminations on the cult of the amateur. That everyone gets a trophy for just showing up. That anyone with a tune in their head can records a CD and, by extension, anyone with a thought in their heads can write a blog. Case in point...me. But you are still reading so on I go.
So I am out this a.m. doing a five mile loop around the neighborhood and then some. I walked past my past abode. The street is being torn up. I can't tell you how many time the water lines burst underground on that street and the subsequent repairs. But I digress. My point is the women who lived and still lives under the stairs. She who is a shut in by her own hand. Yes, she goes out to get her hair and nails done but anything else is a struggle with agoraphobia. I was her tech support as long as I was speaking to her. I mention this as when it came time to set a boundary I had to go back to therapy to learn how to "break-up" with her. She was so lonely that both Phyllis and I spent countless hours keeping her company. Phyllis in particular spent every Saturday night with her helping her send back packages to QVC or HSN. She ordered stuff compulsively and just as compulsively sent everything back. I think she had a misguided crush on Brandon the UPS Driver. Phyllis was the first to break off with her and I followed her lead about three months later. She was and is crazy and demanding and was one of the reasons I moved from the dorm the condo had turned into. This is one of my ponders this morning. She was quite ill, both mentally and physically, and her health was declining. I can't tell you how many times she would call crying hysterically over some misplaced item or emotion. I don't miss her just wonder what has become of her.
Getting ready for another walk. I have been getting in close to nine miles a day and have been topping Dan's pace. The next walk to to meet a buddy for lunch. Crunchy's, a good burger joint. I think I may be predisposed to stop at Biggby's and get a mango freeze which is not unlike a smoothie. I love mango and all this walking has made me thirsty. Or I may go after my lovely session of reflexology this afternoon.
I started getting weekly sessions with the reflexologist when I was panicking over the new house and had almost instant buyer's remorse as I looked at the interior of the house stripped bare of furnishings and in some cases the walls. I continue to get these sessions as, well, they feel so damn good. It has been helpful for me psychically and physically so I continue to get them.
So today is just a wonderful day. Five miles in before 9:00 a.m., fresh flowers on the table, lunch with a good friend, a mango freeze, reflexology and another post reflexology walk. Yes this is much better than appending "Rovi found" to item records. Still next Tuesday I will have to return to the salt mines and add those notes to the thousands of item records. Maybe when the boss returns from China we can begin processing those fifty-nine reports that we requested on the 8.3 million bibliographic record database we sent out for cleaning. Does the name Sisyphus ring a bell?
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