I think I'm probably with the majority of people when I say I hate Daylight Savings Time.
Back when it was instituted, it was a good idea. It gave the farmers more daylight hours to work their fields. That isn't the case anymore. It's an outmoded, outdated, pain in the ass idea whose time (literally) has come and gone. What's worse, those in power have now made it last longer. I remember back in 1984, on my wedding night no less, it started on April 28th. It really wasn't a big deal - my ex took the care package of food they put together for us from the reception site, spread it all out on the bed so we could have a bed picnic, turned on The Love Boat and said, in all seriousness, "What do you want to do after we eat? Fantasy Island is on next!" I looked at him and thought to myself, you have just made the biggest mistake of your life. Having one less hour that night was actually a saving grace. I mean, I'm not a bum fuck, yet the man would fall asleep right in the middle of the Horizontal Mambo. That does a lot for your self-esteem and tends to give one performance anxiety.
Having said that, I hate it being light out at 9 p.m. We have enough little monsters in this neighborhood who are now going to be out much later. I just looked at the time and was shocked. It should be a hour earlier than it is now! Bummer! I also hated that I had to be up an hour earlier yesterday, which probably accounts for why I was late. You all know my sleep habits. Trying to get some sleep before I left was almost impossible. I was falling asleep when we went out to lunch after my prison visit. Then I slept all the way home, most of last night, and most of today. I'm finally awake - just in time to be up all night.
Before I go any farther, allow me to announce the winner of the poetry contest. The votes are in, the public has spoken, and the winner is:
author of Poem No. 1. Congratulations! You'll be receiving a gift very soon.
All the entries were outstanding. I really did have a horrible time of it, which is why I put the two front-runners up for a vote. Hubster and I each picked one, which was the only way I could even get close to a selection.
My prison visit yesterday was the most emotionally draining one I've had thus far. When I exited the block and walked out into the yard, it was teeming with inmates. They've been on lockdown for the past month (the stabbing I saw and a subsequent murder of a child molester are what did it), so everybody was out doing their thing. To make matters worse, my boys weren't waiting for me. The guards were giving them a hard time about waiting by the door for me, but finally, my bodyguard's head became visible over the sea of men, shoving his way through them. He fell into step beside me, and the men parted like Moses parting the Red Sea. It's nice to have friends.
What was so horrible about yesterday is that one of my boys had gone for a colonoscopy the last time I was there, and I wanted to find out his test results. He already has lung cancer; when he hugged me (and they all hugged me like they were about to lose me), I whispered in his ear and asked what the results were. He said something to the effect of "you know", and I did know, with absolute certainty, that the cancer had spread to his colon and intestines. And then, quite to my surprise, I burst into tears. He rocked me like a baby, wiped away my tears, kissed my cheek, and crooned to me, which made me cry harder. He told me not to worry, that he was fine, that he was okay with it, and that I shouldn't mourn because he wasn't. His eyes were shining when he finally let me go, but he tried to hide it. The lesson went great - we all joked around, and a new young man (and I mean YOUNG - 21 years old and a lifer with four counts of attempted murder - no parole possible), joined our group. He's Navaho or from one of the Pueblo tribes, I don't remember which. I worked with him alone for a while, and then we all just hung out and bullshitted until I knew Hubster would be in the parking lot. I hugged my sick boy and cried again, and then they escorted me to the door, blowing me kisses good-bye and making sure I'd be there in two weeks. I was absolutely drained.
I'm in a battle with one of my ex-vendors who sent out a letter a while back, saying she wasn't going to wholesale anymore because she wanted to use the time to prepare for shows. OK. That sucked, but I could understand it. Then I found out she was lying. She was doing an exclusive for someone else and couldn't sell to other shops. I've been writing her letters and telling her I want my money back because I don't want to sell someone's work once and not be able to supply more if it goes over well. She used to bombard me with letters every day, telling me about her exquisite taste, how good she was, how God has blessed her with this talent she has, blah blah blah. I don't give a shit if her opinion of herself is highly inflated; I just want my money back. Now I can't get her to even answer a letter. I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but I'm going to do something. And if you're reading this, mystery dyer, I'm telling you again - I'm not dropping this. Pretty soon, I'm going to blow your name all over this blog and let people know how you do business if you don't answer my letters. I'm slightly pissed. OK - I'm majorly pissed.
I've been trying to knit today, but I've mostly succeeded in sleeping. I'll be knitting tonight, taking pictures of the new vendors' work, filling orders, etc. I have so much to do that I could work all day every day and still not be caught up in two weeks. This is good, though, because right now is when we had to leave our house in a hurry last year. And you know what? I'm okay with it. I think I've finally accepted it. I'm still not happy about it - who would be? - but at least I can live with it. Sure, this hole is a sty, but I'll clean it up. One day.
Speaking of cleaning, I read that Lala (I think it was her) bought a Roomba and loved it. For those of you who don't know what it is, it's a robot vacuum cleaner that looks like a big disk. We went out and bought one, charged it up, and let 'er rip. It's awesome! It knows not to fall off ledges, bumps into things and turns around, then begins to learn what's in the room. You can see it - it sort of slowly swings back and forth when it senses there's something there, then avoids things. Hubster can even program it (such things make him cream his jeans). The coolest thing, though, was when it docked itself back in its' charging port. It rolled up to it, positioned itself, and slowly backed in. Then it beeped and turned itself off. This is too cool for words. Now I can have all the dust zombies picked up, leaving the heavy vacuuming for once a week. I don't know why we didn't get one ages ago.
Now I just have to get a Little Green Machine to clean the Monster. It's beginning to smell like a giant cup of coffee.