"She didn't get manifestations, she got a moustache"
The Lights in the Sky Are

what a year this has been


Today I was looking for some sort of guide like my (charming, well-meaning, outdated but enjoyable) volumes in the Woman Alive! book series, for managing some elements of single apartment life. Well, Google searches are just not helpful anymore, from my point of view. You just have to know any question you want answered can be answered on the internet, if only you can reach it, but you can't reach it without luck most of the time. I felt like an expert at search strings some years ago, but now they are mostly useless. To be fair, it's a complicated question, but it isn't impossible. I want to read, in plain language, another volume of that book which just never got written. They had a volume for the single woman; single by choice or widowed, that is, and they did one for a bit of household management, 

but I'm thinking maybe I need to write my own. 

To back up, the main reason I haven't written any blog posts on any of my web pages isn't because my feet and brain still hurt from being newly employed in a grocery store. It's because my computer keyboard and trackpad are dead, and also the thing has to be plugged in at all times to work. So I am typing on a Bluetooth keyboard, I have a trackball plugged in, this whole thing, and I'm a bit petulant about it. 

Since I got my job 14 months ago, I had a bit of a promotion, so I do more work in one sense, but it's less physically taxing overall. Fortunately, it wasn't enough of a promotion that I sit down for hours or anything like that, though on the other hand, employed in an office setting I'd have probably gotten to have shelter in place time like lots of other people instead of being launched into CrazyLand for many weeks while those same people panic-bought everything they could lay their hands on. 

The promotion is just enough that I'll be able to rent an apartment and get bills paid and not starve, though having had to buy a car in March because a deer killed my beloved old one put a tiresome dent in the operation. 

I know how to pack up a big house, I have spent months thinking over what I need to keep, want to keep, will probably need to let go of, etc. to fit into a much smaller space. I've been working on cutting recipes to two servings; leftovers for lunch or late nights in mind. And I've been attempting to visualize myself alone in a place with things that I love and no pet hair or discarded cereal bowls, as a healthy person who will live a long time, rather than with too much paranoia about cancer or Covid. It's not super easy, though. 

What I want is a sort of early 70s throwback atmosphere only with cleaner air and better appliances and a lot of YouTube videos. I was even thinking maybe I'd make my own videos about it, as a supplement to this blog, which is now a hopeful journal of how this all transpires.

I'm going to look at an apartment today. The area was recommended to me a few months ago, and I didn't like the notion of living three whole miles farther east instead of west, but now that I think about it sensibly in a more focused time frame, more and better space for the money seems worth an extra ten minutes' drive into the city. And if I can contrive some scheme to make up for the car payment line added to my budget, I can be comfortable.

But everything feels so uncertain, doesn't it? 

The cherished friend most likely to comment on these posts in the past has died. I'm not saying that to bum anyone out, but if you feel like weighing in briefly on the concrete ratio, I'd enjoy reading your thoughts.