Back at my desk in the fruit stand that I frequent most often. It is Thursday, February 19 2026. I’ve been listening to the Cocteau Twins a lot lately. A few weeks ago, I was offered a chance to load whatever Amazon playlists I had to my YouTube Music account. It wasn’t as good an idea as I hoped, as there was a lot of mislabeled crap that contained things that I owned, but the playlists were not worth it, so I have been deleting every now and then.

I met Liz and Robin years ago when the wonderful Stan Bogdansky brought them to Maxwell’s. I was trying to be cool and asked a few questions about Colourbox, who were label mates to the Cocteau Twins on 4AD. I was more than likely annoying.

And of course Cocteau Twins reminds me of Jet Watley, gone more years than when he was alive.

I am also taking online classes that I’m not paying much attention to as part of the staffing agency that placed me at the fruit stand, and how they are trying to get their fingers into my life, for which I greatly resent them.

I am home now. Eyelids heavy. I nodded off at work once or twice. Just for a few seconds. A closing of my eyes. It could be from the cutback on my coffee consumption. That’s what I like to think. I don’t think it’s anything worse than that, and it makes sense. To me, at least. I probably would have done that on the train home, but I was standing, and that would have been risky.

Bill is still below the Mason-Dixon line, and Mike is on the couch. I am here once again in front of the computer screen, typing. The Watchmen series is on, and I hoped Mike would have been into it, but he’s looking at his phone, and I can’t compete with that. I have been watching intermittently for the past few hours intermittently, so I am guilty as well.

Mike actually called out my hypocrisy a few weeks ago, saying my looking at the computer is the same as him looking at his phone. I countered by saying that the smartphone is held in your hand, and I am somewhat disconnected from the computer. I’m not holding it, and it’s not controlling me. Or is it?

And it’s later than I realized, so I am typing close to my bedtime. Not that it’s a problem, it isn’t. I’m taking it slow and easy. Tomorrow might just be a slow and easy kind of day. Don’t want to say too much about it now, but I suppose I will tomorrow. So you might just have to wait for this here blog tomorrow.

If you waited from 2014 to 2024, then you might just have to wait a few hours, which is not so bad after all. And I’m sure you waited…

And it is almost time for me to take it down, meaning, go to bed.

At the main fruit stand. The Hive. It’s not my favorite place to be when the machines are cooperating, and this morning they are not. Little things are not going through, and they pile up into a big thing.

My coworkers are late, and without the machines running properly, I scramble and try to get things running. It would be one thing if I were at my usual spot, but I’m a stranger in a strange land.

I had to rethink my thoughts of Lex Luthor. He’s a good guy and seems to admire me for some reason. He came in about 90 minutes late, and no one batted an eye. Things got done, and when he did show up, I moved aside and let him do most of the heavy lifting since it was his desk, and he knows how things run.

The fruit stand where I work is considerably smaller and easy for one person to maintain. Lex knows more about these things, so I deferred to his judgment. He also gave me the lowdown. I am liked and well-regarded by most of the staff, though a supervisor said offhand to him something about my lack of posting notes after meetings I attend. I told Lex the truth, that no one told me that I had to write notes.

Tomorrow is another meeting, and tomorrow I will add notes. Obviously, I have no problem writing, you can just read this here blog. I can write, but I can’t say that I write well. That would be up to you, dear anonymous reader. And you remain bloody silent.

Bill is below the Mason-Dixon line, Mike is on the couch, and I am sitting in front of the computer typing. The past couple of posts were written on the smartphone, not dictated. It took some time, but I was generally satisfied. If you were as well, you never let me know.

Working with Lex today, I found that he loves to gossip and also called me ‘gurl’ a few times, which did not bother me at all. Apparently, Lex has a few flings with various employees at the fruit stand. He named one of them, which came as a surprise to me. I was sworn to secrecy, and I will maintain that vow.

Bill just phoned in the middle of a search for students somewhere. I know he will find them and will have a nice meal after that. Mike is still couch-bound, deep into his phone, looking at various clips on YouTube and social media.

One of those social medias, owned by a fictitious company called Meta, kicked me off twice for purportedly posting sexualized images of children. Anyone who knows me would know this is a falsehood, leaving me to think Zuckerberg is even more of a twat than originally believed. It was an image for the Hunger Site, a charity that helps people, animals, and forests around the world. The image was of 6 African children jumping for joy. Something Zuckerberg knows nothing about unless those Ivy League twins filled him in on it.