I've Got Some Shit to Do

Today is Thursday. As I lay in bed in a continuous loop of looking at the clock and calculating what time I could reasonably get to work, if I hurried, I was reminded of the fact that it was Thursday by the sound of the garbage truck. "DAMN" I announced - as I do every Thursday morning - when I realized that Thursday meant trash day and I may or may not have my trash out in time, and once again I didn't know if it was paper or glass/metal/plastic day.

I used to have a foolproof system for remembering which recycling week it was. I would put the empty recycling container beneath the other container when I brought it in. As long as I didn't miss a week, there was no way for this rotating scheme to fail. Over time, I changed my ways and grew comfortable in having the paper bin on top. I can slip recyclable items into the appropriate tub in the dark if I want without worrying about accidentally getting a tuna can mixed in with my credit card offer medley.

A simple calendar, available at this website would solve all of my problems. However, if you look at the calendar you'll notice that the blue and green highlighting is very similar in color. So similar, in fact, that on a black and white printer it comes out identical. Not useful. This time I finally broke down and colored it myself, thank you Uncle Sam for the use of your blue highlighter.

Next on my agenda for the day is to get out of work early. I have some personal business to which I need to tend. In fact, two items with an option for a third. The second is really only a phone call, but an important one. The trouble is that the Thursday Night Run also falls on Thursday night this week, so my time is limited. And with the shortening days, we meet earlier than we do in the summertime meaning less time for personal business. For that reason, I'm leaving early today. Any overflow business requiring my attention will be tended to on the morrow.

Last on my agenda will be taken care of after The Run and after The After-Run Dinner. This chore is more of a mega-chore; I have to put my laundry into the dryer. I've washed it twice now because I took so long to get it into the dryer that it got a tad stank. DAMN! Really, it takes about 2 minutes to walk downstairs and switch the laundry over and get it drying. And when it's done I'll have socks and underwear, so I can stop wearing these damned tighty-whities.

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Coot's Cranky Corner

I hate vinyl siding. I will tell anyone of this hatred, whether they own vinyl siding or not. My across-the-street, only-neighbors-to-speak-to-me-for-the-first-three-years-of-living-in-my-house neighbors are in the process of siding their home in vinyl siding. No offense to them, but they're not even half-assing it. They're covering the charming New England wooden clapboard in pink foam insulation (step one in installing vinyl siding) but using wafer-thin foam. This stuff is so thin it probably encourages the house to lose heat in the winter. They've been out there for days doing the smallest sections they can. The shit cuts with a knife, it should go up in no time.

To ensure that the job goes as unsmoothly as possible, they're installing the siding before they finish the insulation. I'm sure this is out of a desire for instant gratification, but it's causing them to quarter-ass the job. To make matters worse, they're working from the top down, doing about 8' wide swaths. What they should be doing is starting from the bottom and doing the whole width of the house first, then moving up. The technique they're using will ensure that water can easily find its way beneath the siding, eventually causing the siding to fall off. Plus, it'll line up the seams so it'll look like they bought big panels of pre-fab siding.

{georgia mass choir}Ghet-toooo{/georgia mass choir}.

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End of rant. The people are very nice and I don't mean to bust on them, but siding just makes me so mad. There was nothing wrong with the wood clapboard that a fresh paint job (not one done with a sprayer) wouldn't have solved. As a matter of fact, I offered this suggestion to them a few years back when they complained about how poorly the paint held up. I told them sprayers are bandaids, you need to use a roller and brush. I painted houses for 4 years, several of which had been painted the year before with a sprayer.

Now they're going to have ghetto vinyl, ghetto insulation and me hating on them from the comfort of my livingroom (in my half-painted house). Hate, hate hate.

And that's the end of that chapter.

Over and Out,
Old Coot