The global outage affecting millions had limited effect on my little kingdom. The lettered MTA train stations had no working signs indicating arrival times, and the app didn’t work either. But trains are on time. A step back to pre-app days when you really had no idea when a train was coming.
I was unable to log in to my PCP’s portal to request a prescription refill. I was able to log in to my online banking. Someone on the radio said there might be troubles with payroll, and this is payday, but it’s fine. I’m yet to see what impact this has here at work, but my home PC is unaffected. It’s not connected to any kind of network where this kind of global update would be applied. I am even able to connect to it remotely again.
I had a job interview yesterday that left me feeling melancholy. Everything makes me sad but something about this left me feeling especially tender in places I’m usually strong. It was a Zoom call. I’ve done blessed few of those but get nervous about being my own tech support and setting up all the moving parts. It worked fine but the interview itself, a cold, procedural, necessary ritual, cooled any aspirations I may have had in pursuing the job.
The job would be full time, from 10pm to 6am. I honestly don’t think I can safely take on the health risks associated with this kind of schedule. I have certain pre-existing conditions that would certainly be exacerbated by lack of sunlight, circadian disruption, and other factors.
It’s possible I could reconsider if there was more money, but nobody has any money. This would pay only lsightly more than I make at present, which is financially perilous, but the job is secure. Moving to any new job includes the risks of insecurity and being mis-hired.
Yesterday, in my disillusionment, I walked, walked, and walked some more. Familiar routes. Honeywell Street Bridge through Long Island City, crossing Queens Boulevard (surviving) past the Aviation High School with the cool airplanes in their yard. I actually had a specific goal of seeing if a street sign I filed a 311 complaint about last year had been fixed. It remains unreadable, and inaccurate. No one cares about this asshole corner of Queens, I don’t know why anyone would bother trying to bring attention to the many issues present in that area.
I rambled through Old Calvary, paying little attention to anything. I attempted to enter the Chapel, learning that it has been renamed Calixtus Chapel. Or was it always named Calixtus? I had always seen it referred to as Calvary Chapel but maybe that was always incorrect. The chapel remains locked. Before Covid it was one of my favorite places to sit. It was open until 2 or 3pm every day. Now it is only opened for Saturday Field Mass at 10am.
Calixtus is a Latin word for “VERY BEAUTIFUL.” The chapel is not very beautiful. The facade has potential but the interior is a dump, with ponding occurring with even a slight rain. The Station of the Cross look like they will deteriorate. THere is a certain musty, skunky smell to the place. But I like to think it’s all nothing a good coat of paint and some roof repair couldn’t take care of.
I moved briskly through New Calvary, taking advantage of the shade its trees provide. It was quite hot, real feel was probably in the mid-90s fahrenheit, I was sweating good and hard. I love a good sweat. But the shade at New Calvary was an appreciated respite. The path through West Maspeth is unforgiving in that respect. I spotted this cute robot, which I do not think was there the last time I passed through. For some reason I cannot figure out how to rotate this at the present time.
Still feeling melancholy, after yesterday’s 12,000 steps walking through Old and New Calvary, with a short Q60 bus trip getting me from New Calvary to Queens Plaza. Bus air conditioning is boss. I used to just ride the bus for long distances solely to sit under the air conditioning that blasted the seat right next to the back door. I don’t think the newer buses have that magic seat but they don’t need it.
