I wonder if the crew roofing the house next door is out to get me.
What if they sneak over to my house and take off my roof and not put on a new one? You know. As a gag.
That’s the kind of hilarity homeowners can expect from the likes of me if I go into roofing. You know, professionally.
Which I’m considering. Although I have a hefty fear of heights and debris and nail guns. It could still work though…I could just drink before my shift to “loosen up.”
I walk our dog this morning. The roofers set up all their gear in front of our neighbor’s house. The house getting the roof, I hope.
It’s smokey because as previously mentioned (as if I have followers) I identify the amount of smoke in the air around my immediate vicinity as of intense levels because Oregon and California are reducing to fine particulate matter as a result of fires not attributed to climate change. Depending on who you ask.
I’m in a mask, which filters smoke and viruses now.
A fellow dog-walking citizen and neighbor walks by and in response to my effervescent “…how’s it goin’?” question as I try to “smile with my eyes” since my mask covers my Cheshire but slightly yellow grin so maybe the mask is for the best and I need to practice smiling with my eyes more since I will now wear one forever, she replies “I’m freaked out.”
Undoubtedly due to smoke and viruses.
But lo, no. There’s a shooter about 10 blocks up the street from us. Apparently on the loose. Cops everywhere, etc. As in, person with firearm running around my neighborhood. Probably has bullets too.
I don’t check the news, I don’t know what is going down. I will later tonight.
Oddly enough, it doesn’t deter me from my dog walk. Surely this is a sign of some kind of decision-making atrophy or at best malaise, yes? Shouldn’t I just, you know, to be cautious, go home? With my dog? Maybe get a hefty stick and put it by the door?
I’ve become paranoid of the wrong things. The roofers have no ill-intent, they won’t mount my domicile in an (albeit hilarious) attempt to prank me. They are just doing roofer stuff.
Maybe I need to get out more once the smoke clears. Indeed, I shall. So I can make better decisions. Otherwise I may soon place my car on “cruise control” and stomp the accelerator with my hands off the wheel to go to the grocery/pharmacy/vegetable stand or wherever else my wife says. Or take up smoking. Or fry bacon on my propane grill (again).
I’ll fish tomorrow for Coho. That will make me not go crazy. It will be great. I already have my costume picked out.