I was hoping against hope I’d return to Austin and find the beginnings of fall, you know cooler weather? So much for that. Just shows ta go ya what hope and prayers are good for. Not much. Am I feeling overly negative, without a scent of the eternal optimism I am known for in some circles? Nope. I’m just f’g tired of this gosh darned infernal heat.
What? No expletives? Yes. I woke up this morning and felt as if I’d been struck by the Mary Poppins fairy or rather some Lady Bird-like Texan who has absolutely never uttered a god-forsaken word in her “praise Jesus and pass-the-biscuits & gravy-life”.
At the same time, My inner LA Jewish princess was ever so slightly muttering those four letter words close by, as I cuddled up to my bed hog dogs who were stirring at my as yet unmentionable sounds. I rose. I wondered what the heck/hell was happening. Am I bipolar, bi coastal or just confused as to where I am? I considered this as I headed to the bathroom to relieve myself, then wash my hands, then face, then teeth. Yikes! Who was this senior woman in the mirror with the salt and pepper Jew-fro, wearing a Move-on tee shirt and bikini underwear.?
Was it then that I became fully awake? Fucking hell! I screamed. I knew the goody two (cowboy) boots which had temporarily infected me was not going to survive for much longer.
The eldest of the three dogs now began yelling at me to commence their feeding. As is my habit and as the proverbial bitch to my dogs, I trodded into the kitchen, grabbed the bowls, the homemade food from the fridge, the crunchies from the island, the spoon from the drawer and began my process of dishing out the victuals, all whilst two of the three dogs howled and barked for me to hurry the fuck up. Little Zappa sat quietly waiting. Good dog I said to him. Quiet I yelled, contradictingly (sp) to the other two.
I made coffee, okay I made decaf, but who cares? It’s morning. I’m vertical. I’m more or less awake. And shit it’s hot already. Should I have stayed in Lalaland at the overpriced hotel? Naw. Oh sure the weather was cooler, the meetings had been really good, the friends super great, the food absolutely fabulous, Ronnie Marmo in his one man show “I’m not a Comedian, I’m Lenny Bruce” at Theatre 68 was fantastic. But The traffic? It was nuts and made the run, stop, creep, go of Austin’s I35 seem like child’s play. Is it any wonder many LA people succumb to drinking and drugs? You tell me. A week there was enough.
So I’m back home. We’ve all had breakfast now and I’m ensconced on my sofa, iPad on lap, plunking away for another few minutes before I have to ascend my loft/office stairs to pay my taxes. Poor me. Actually no complaints about the tax thing. I extended filing til the very last minute because of some accounting confusion on my part. Thankfully I had made some prepayments or I’d be in deep shit. Yes, Our Mary of Texas can be seen galloping Westward with her ears covered singing “La La La, I can’t hear you.” I’m just too deeply rooted in the (not) sports world of Expletives United to give a fuck what anyone thinks of my swearing. I’m also too old to care and taxes do call for a plethora of four letter words. Don’t you think?
Speaking of swearing, that’s what I employed when I first received the recall notice on my 2014 Ford C-Max. “Yes, you will need to bring it in ASAP, that is as soon as the parts arrive, then we’ll call you.” That has about two months ago. They didn’t call, but since it was apparent that this was a danger to my life and limb/s so much so that they were recalling an eight year old car, I called them last week, found out the parts were there and set up an appointment. Service Department does not mean good service, does it?
“We’ll need your car for at least two days.” Said the cheery voice in said service department.
“Really? And I suppose you’ll give me a free rental?” I said in as level a voice as I could muster, since I was clearly unhappy but knowing that bitching gets you burned, big time.
“Sorry, we don’t have any rentals available. We’ll gladly call you a Lyft to get home.” Said cheery service rep.
I fumed.
I dropped off my car on Thursday at the appointed hour, asking again for a rental. It was a no go. They called me a Lyft. I rode home. I quietly muttered a shitload of x rated words along the way while speaking kindly to my innocent driver.
Once home and the door closed, I stripped off my now perspiration stained garments (it doesn’t take long for my bod to succumb to the damn heat) and jumped in the shower.
I am Now at the mercy of Austin public transportation and the continuing/ridiculous temperature So I have decided to be ensconced (comfortably, mind you) in my air conditioned abode. The latest text I received was that my car might be ready on Saturday. My calculations? Three days.
I’m making the best use of my time. Writing “please vote” postcards to voters in Georgia, pay aforementioned taxes (yuck), fix friends website, work in my studio…I have a longer list but why bore you?
And this is why I will cease my writing and commence the Must-do’s on my ToDo list.
Have a wonderful weekend & May you have an ideal climate.
Janet Bernson 