some people just need a good spanking. I have a hand truck that adjust to be a horizontal truck. If you put a flattened box down on it, it’s a great way to haul a lot of crap to the dumpster at once. It’s going to be essential over the next couple of days.
I took a load of garbage down to the dumpster, and then parked the hand truck in front of my reserved parking space. Then I hoped in the car and went to Safeway. I knew I’d need it for all the crap I was going to haul home. When I got back, the hand truck was gone. There happened to be a maintenance guy outside the front of the building, working, so I asked him if he saw what happened to it. He said a gentleman took it and started to haul garbage with it. “In fact, there he is right there,” pointing up to a first floor balcony. I called up to the guy and asked him if he had my truck, and could I have it back. He said yes, and ten minutes later he finally came down with a load of trash. Then he brought it over and apologized. He said that he is cleaning his apartment, and thought that it [the truck] would “help him.” So he took it. Wow… how convenient for him.
His balcony is two floors down from mine. Which means that he belongs to the reserved parking space with the extra sign. The owners of the space put their own additional reserved sign up, and signed it with their apartment number. That’s how I know it’s his space. Which means the ginormous SUV is his too. It’s one of those ridiculously huge and luxurious SUV’s. With a vanity plate. That reads TNDRNI. Tenderoni? Is there anything else it could be? Is he serious? Really?
I’m pretty sure that his tenderoniSUV would “help me” in my efforts to clean. Maybe I should just take it.

I am weakened with heat exhaustion and overexertion. I may just swoon. It’s not humane to expect me to clean in this heat. I am a delicate flower, you know. I may just have to jump in the car and buy something expensive, soon.
Here is my plan, if it works out. Mrs. Moon and I think that Mr. Moon should come over to my house after work. And he should go swimming with us, as we’ll be all hot and tired. Then, when the sun starts to set, Mr. Moon and I can pull a dumpster across the parking lot, and situate it under my balcony. One of us, probably me, will toss garbage over the balcony and into the dumpster. While the other mans the dumpster and tells anyone who protests to fuck off. That way, we can just stack any garbage on my balcony while we clean, and we’ll have the excitement of tossing stuff off a balcony to look forward to later. What’s the worst that can happen? The managers tell me, the next day, to never do that again and I say, “ok. but never announce you are invading my private space with only three [working] days notice again, ya bastards. I need at least a weekend.”
I may be a big dork, but I’ve always wanted to do that. What a time saver.
Edited to add at 7:56 pm:
whoooo-boy and I procrastinating. I damn near started updating to MovableType 3.0… just to avoid the cleaning. Also, for about five minutes, all the colors in my style sheet changed, but you probably didn’t notice because I changed them right back. I was just playing. There is no satisfactory blue color, in the web spectrum.

The title is a real life quote from Fee. And a pretty awesome one, at that.
Mrs. Moon is going to come over tomorrow and help me clean. She’s super good at it. I’m going to pay her. It’s only fair. Currently, she is a punk rock housewife and stay at home mom. You’d think she does enough cleaning. But I think she sort of likes the sense of accomplishment. And it’s a well known fact that cleaning someone else’s house is easier somehow. I wouldn’t say more fun, but…. Anyway, she is a much much much better cleaner and organizer than I am. When it gets too hot, we plan to go downstairs and jump in the pool. She’ll keep me on track, keep me from slacking. Which is what I need most of all, really.
I really have nothing exciting to tell you … the other night I went to Safeway and a man outside growled at me. Like a dog. Idiot that I am, I didn’t think to hiss back at him (like a cat) until much later. Too bad.