The Positives of Blogging

OK, see, here's the deal.

When I drive home, there are 5 million thoughts spilling out of my head. Loaded. Like when I go to bed and all the To Do lists are running through my head. Someone else told me that - that when he goes to bed, there are all those things that need doing just running around in his head. He probably thought I was just doing the bonding agreeing thing, but I really was sympathising - that is exactly what happens to me. I hate that.

But I have an 18-mile commute that in the morning is pretty fast and in the evening can be slower, but that is just extra brain time. Like taking a shower - auto pilot the whole way and when I get out of the shower - or my car - I have gotten to my destination... and can't recall the trip.

By the same token, when I get home with those 5 million thoughts, I get into the house and it all goes right out of my head. It's sad. It's that ADD thing that shows up all the time - of course - and all those great thoughts *POOF* are gone.

So let me see if I can recall them.

OK, here's one. In Summit, there are all these signs showing a helicopter with a red circle and a line through it saying NO HELIPAD... what is that? What does that mean? One is in someone's garden. Are you worried that a helicopter will pick your garden to land in? I don't think so. No space for it. Is this something people worry about? Seriously. I wonder all the time about people - this just makes me worry about people.

Today I passed another sign in Parsippany that reads "The Christians are Coming Home". Did the Crusades start up again and I didn't know? It is possible since I don't read the news or see it. (I still stand by the article that I read stating that people who don't read or watch the news sleep much better than those who do. I believe it completely.) But what the heck does this mean? How amazing. I hadn't realised they'd lost their homes. I guess the homeless Jewish people don't get signs. Or all the Muslims living under the thumb of weird dictators with mommy complexes (say HELLO, Ayatollah). But Christians? Sure. Why not?

What else? Oh, yes. The height of excitement: I tried calling Ray and no answer. I called the cell phone. No answer. Called the house again, no answer. OK. In a household with one invalid who can't move or read and has a three-word vocabulary and a man who is a heart attack looking for a place to happen, tell me what you would do. I know what I would do and I did. I called the main line for the Wayne police and asked them to just send someone over to check that the aging parents are okay.

The Wayne police are wonderful. They took my information (and got much more friendly when I said I'm an EMT in Parsippany - the professional courtesy is much more. Police love us, we love the police. It seems to work everywhere) and said they'd send a car. I called Luis and told him about it. Then I called their house again and got Ray. Oh, thank the gods. I told him not to be surprised if an office shows up at the door to see if you're okay. He said he'd call them and cancel the call. Then he called me back and said only the originator of the call can do that. Okay, that does make sense.

I called the desk and got Officer McDermott and told him who I was, why I was calling and that they could stand down. He was very friendly and said no problem - I thanked him profusely and called Ray back. Then I remembered why I'd called him. My car is leaking something. Wonderful timing, of course. There is a puddle of brownish fluid under the passenger side of the front. I put my finger in it, knowing it wasn't water and sure enough, it smelled funny. I wiped my finger off and got the garbage out.

This morning I called Tony - my hero - and he thinks it could be brake fluid or transmission fluid or maybe steering fluid. My gods. Take your pick for nightmares. You know the worst would be transmission fluid. Ugh. Ugly thought. Brake fluid, steering - ugly, too but less expensive (I should think). I don't have an issue with the fact that my 2001 vehicle has problems because I love my car and I would rather fix it than get a new. But the timing bites. I wanna blow the wad in Boston, not on the car. However, since I am too fond of living, I will have to spend at least some of my money on my beloved vehicle.

Tomorrow...

It is pouring out. Goodness. April is living up to its usual weather. Good for some, not so much for others. I'm sure someone is celebrating! Not me, though. I am not a fan of rain. I love thunderstorms a lot more. But just rain... not so much.

I think it is bedtime.