Sigh. That’s about all I can do or say. It’s been that kind of a day. Sleep did not come easily or comfortably last night so the day started out like that. I got it together and was soon on the train after the usual hug & kiss from Bill as well as the recitation of the checklist before I left the apartment.

I knew what I was getting myself into at work. Schlomo and his supervisor were bound to be in. As stressed out as I may have been last week, the temperature was definitely going to be higher this week. And it was.

You see, where I work, it’s an office a block and a half from where the Twin Towers stood, where we help people who are suffering the effects of being at or near ground zero during and after 9/11. This is why I am respectful to these clients that come into the office. Most of the time they have appointments but not always.

Still, each person gets treated like an adult, with respect. It doesn’t get seen that way. If a client is difficult and they sometimes are, it does not make it easy to treat them with respect but still, it is what they get. And if a young twenty-something mishears or misunderstands something, then it is too bad for me since the young twenty-something’s father is the supervisor’s supervisor. There’s no way I can win.

So his father came back to the office today and the young twenty-something is due back tomorrow, as blissfully oblivious as he was before he left. Or maybe not. Perhaps he had a road to Damascus transition and will be repentant. I know, that ain’t gonna happen.

On my lunchtime stroll around Tribeca, I decided to walk over to West St and add some more steps to my counter, but once I started in that direction I had changed my mind and walked down Greenwich Street instead.

I just had to check to make sure it was Greenwich Street and not Greenwich Avenue. I still can’t get them straight after all these years.

And as I walked down Greenwich Street I looked up and saw the World Trade Center and thought to myself that I was glad I was not down in this part of Manhattan 23 years ago. It was bad enough watching from Midtown back then and having seen a few documentaries on that tragedy, I know the area fairly well, at least well enough to identify some locations where interviews were made and footage was shot.

I suppose it is a confluence of what I am feeling. The depression of the job situation, the presidential campaign, the state of the world, and death. Death is always there. I’m in no rush to meet death not at all but I know that one moment you might be here and the next moment you might not. It all harkens back to Mother’s Day in 1991.

That’s why I freak out a bit when Bill who is generally an endless font of words suddenly gets silent. Bill understands that freak out.

My last freak out of the day. Some people still do not know how to wear a mask properly. The majority of people that I see wearing masks these days wear them below their nostrils and only over their mouths (sometimes).

I don’t understand it, and I joke to myself that they are more than likely mouth breathers, but there I go again… It’s simple enough to understand how to wear a mask, they’ve had 4 years!

I’ve been putting off writing most of the night. Now it is 9:21 PM and I figured now is the best time. Here I am. Outside fireworks are going off for the ending of the local Italian festival. It was supposed to be fireworks last night but what with the rain and all…People are probably freaking out over their pets freaking out. It’s loud enough through an open window and we’re probably about a half mile away. There are a couple of thousand residents between here and there.

Bill and I walked through this afternoon after Bill got his RSV/Covid/Flu shot. He tried to get the RSV earlier but it’s only available to people 60 and up and he was but a wee lad of 59. The fireworks must be nearing their conclusion as it’s getting much louder. I did the bike ride again. North Bergen and back. About 12 miles more or less.

I posted a video on the social medias yesterday about the different types of pedestrians one comes across while bicycling. It was pretty much on the money. And today confirmed that. I wrote last week about having to use the Brazilian carnival whistle, almost always as a last resort.

Today was nothing but last resort. I did see online a device that sounds like an oncoming Mack truck which caught my attention. I thought what I had was good enough but having to use the whistle so often lately makes me think a louder effect will have to do.

The current device I have which seems to go unheard has 3 sounds, a bell, chimes, and a buzzer. It can’t compete with headphones or earbuds or indifference. After I was done with bicycling I went out again and met up with Bill, walking through the Italian feast. Bill knew someone he used to work with. I didn’t know anyone which makes me think they saw me first.

I’m presently quite tired. I was really tired earlier but I think I’ve gotten used to it. Bill and I watched the second part of the David Cross documentary and it made me want to watch the Sopranos again. So brutal, but so compelling.

Now we’re watching Sherlock, The Abominable Bride. I’ve seen it before and it’s one of the episodes I did not buy. Bill’s never seen it before and he likes it. It’s the episode which mainly takes place in the 1800’s.

Unfortunately, it is on during a pledge drive on Public Television. I would donate if they would cease begging for money once they got the money. I don’t need to spend $100 for a CD that I could get for $5. Or $85 for a rocks glass with Arthur Conan Doyle’s writing printed on the glass. With an image of a pipe. And I am not a pipeman.

Bill is so engrossed with the episode that he is going to stay up past his bedtime just so he can watch the end.