For as long as I last at this current job I get Wednesdays and Sundays off. My doubts about continuing at this position mostly involve money. I am losing money spending 60 hours of my week performing this job, getting there and back, etc.

I anticipated this scenario but find the reality of it is a little more grim than I anticipated. I

A problem becomes the fact that I like the job too much. On the other hand the time horizon for advancement or for gaining anything in return besides a paycheck does not suit my projected life span. I do not have an expiration date stamped upon me but I simply do not see myself at 70.

I have dipped into such interesting worlds, though. A call from a woman incarcerated for 2nd degree murder who said her valuables, $100k worth, were confiscated by police and never returned. A bit of research reveals those jewels were most likely stolen from the person she murdered. She wants her stolen goods back, as if they’d do her any good for her spending probably the rest of her life in prison.

Another call came from a reasonable-sounding bloke whose tone of voice and pace of conversation had me thinking he was in for some petty misdemeanor. Looked it up and he’s in for 1st degree murder, with a rap sheet of something like 80 arrests.

I got ashes today at the Catholic church on 5th Avenue in midtown that is not St. Patrick’s. FAPC. What kind of church uses FAP in its name?

My time with the 181 might finally be coming to an end. It has become expensive. Service is slower than ever. It is no longer conveniently located and it has not been thus for a long time.

It is the next day. Thursday, back at work. Only 1 minute to say anything. Maybe I can send this later. I’ve enjoyed my morning strambles about Lower Manhattan, even as I stick to pretty much the same destinations every day. I don’t want to get lost or be late to the job.

Later in the day. At a Starbucks. Not going to go over the Tarbox/Katy connection. What does it matter?

Work has been a little more fun lately since interacting with others was finally allowed. No team meetings on account of Covid, but we had something like a team meeting yesterday.

I am, as expected, not allowed to talk about details of my days here. It is not a top-secret operation. I am not working for the CIA. But there is enough sensitive information passing through my hands that would be damaging to people should it somehow wash up on social media. I am not blind or dumb to that.

But, unintentionally, I was given tacit clearance to write all about it after I’m gone. That makes sense. There was comprehensive NDA, because why would there be. This isn’t a high-clearance position.

It remains to be seen what I would write about from all this. Here again I have to be opaque, but it’s been fine talking about it all with friends.

I could start writing now. I mean, I have started already.

Bah. Who cares? At this juncture, it’s just prattle talking about this.

Sitting at a Starbucks at Hanover and Pearl.

Had a dream last night about a beloved ex. We were in an office with several other people, including a not-so-beloved ex, who sat nearby, simmering with rage at my beloved ex and I laughing and making conversation. That is what the other ex will never be capable of.

The beloved ex looked different. Her index toe (is the toe next to the big toe called “index”?) was elongated and deformed. I remember her feet as well as I remember the rest of her body. In the dream the right foot looked like I remember but the left was deformed.

Her hair was also quite strange. It was shaped like a cake on top of her head. She never did anything crazy with her hair so this was notable.

But it didn’t matter. I made no secret of my love for her, but also made no suggestion of any sort that I expected anything of her. Loving someone does not mean you need to spend the rest of your life with them. Life is long. Take the time and opportunity to learn other people.

How much time did I waste (not just my time) assuming a lifetime commitment was the only acceptable outcome?