I admit that it has not been much of a vacation. I had wanted to go to Mounds State Park sometime this week before the fools in Anderson inundate it with their toxic, Rangeline-Auto-Parts-under the reservoir.
I cannot believe Anderson would think of doing this. This is an acknowledgement that the city is on its way to become nothing more than a bedroom town for Indianapolis — one that is so decayed that it can never compete with Fishers and Carmel-by-the-Road.
Tuesday I ate at the Olive Garden in Muncie, and worked at a terminal in the Architecture Library, reading my mail and wondering what and why is going on while I am gone. The one work committee that I am a chair, and its secretary gets a new archival job with Eli Lilly, and we have to start over. Foo.
Wednesday, after doing yard work, I closed off my bedroom in order to catch my cat and put her in a carrier. I took her to the new vet, whose name I will not mention. The first question put to me was
Is your cat new? I thought,
No, I had her for years! It turns out they meant,
Is this her first time here? Honestly! They could have said that the first time. That set my mood of that place to Foul for the rest of the stay. But at least she got her exam and her shots. After I took her home, I thoroughly cleaned under the bed and replaced the tote bag: In her anger and fear my cat dumped on the carpet under the bed. At least I will not have to do this for another year.
Today I have washed my laundry and all my winter clothes. The latter I sorted into stuff I wear often and stuff I will not miss. The latter among that goes to the local charity store, along with the bathrobe I have not worn in years.
That charity store had received an air conditioner that I have not used in years because it is too unwieldy, and a weed-whacker whose battery is not removable.