Sunday, May 17, 2015

Yoga Cancellation

Yoga was cancelled yesterday as the instructor's children came down with an illness. The perps have a long history of cancelling/obstructing yoga on me, sometimes for months at a time due to work conflicts. Though now it is down to single event/week cancellations it seems, but as next Monday is a long weekend holiday, why, there will be two successive cancellations. Cute trick that, and more common than single week cancellations.

As to what they get from it, besides ensuring that if I don't go I get stiff joints and become inflexible. They like the fact there are spinal twists and flexing, but the strangest thing is that they don't let me practice at home. I suppose there is an element of instructor attractiveness/distraction that would be missing when at home, but surely this is not a reason to jerk me around over yoga practice frequency. Rest assured, they have a plan.

On vineyard work today; weed eating duty, pallet load packing etc. The winery assistant was a little pissy today for no seeming reason. I was attempting to make conversation and I suppose it was is assigned turn to act brusque it would seem, just like so many others that suddenly turn on me for no apparent reason. This "habit" sometimes occurred in the distant past, again for no seeming reason. It is more common now since the Day of Abusive Infamy came on in 04-2002, aka, the Day the Perps Went Berserk and Overt.

When packing a pallet of wine cases the perps fucked me into putting the labels on the wrong side of the box for at least 6 cases of 14. I have packed at least 10 pallets in the past three months, and worked four days on the bottling line doing the same thing, and "for some reason" I totally "forgot". I am definitely being kept in the incompetent camp on this gig, and it infuriates me no end.

I got to wear my gumboots home as I left my regular boots in the winery for which I don't have a key. And of course the perps enabled this by making me clueless as to the time of day when I was last there. Regular readers will know how obsessed the perps are over rubber, made from feedstocks of sap from trees. also one of their obsessions. When taking public transportation from 2006 to 2012, the perps nearly always had an operative parked next to the wheel well on the bus. The low floor buses had a proportionately larger wheel well (inside) than the typical buses of yore. And they had me seat near the rear wheel well most of the trips that I took where there was no other "herding" agenda.

Still on weed eating, then the trimmer head spun off and got lost. Then onto the other vineyard property and attending to the gopher holes, and then painting clear wood preservative (zinc napthanate) on the tops of the cut posts that were exposed to the elements. And lo, if I "forgot" to wear rubber gloves, and instead had stretchy porous ones instead. And lo, that exposure to the chemical wasn't sufficient, as they had me mis-pour it onto my R hand late in the exercise. I was utterly pissed, as I never pour anything blatantly into/onto the wrong location, never mind on my own hand.

A Wednesday yoga session with the male instructor, now with a bigger gut and stubble on his chops. Seems like he cannot do some of the poses he has us do. This is the same instructor who once thanked every one for coming, "especially those who came on short notice". One would have to be an operative to make such a bold statement as that I reckon.

Six other women made up the the class. And for some reason Star Girl was there, the attractive lithe blonde with the star tattoos on her wrist. I hadn't seen her at yoga for at least six months, and she looks better than ever for some reason. Though she does her own flaky routines at times, and I suppose this supports the perp cause in some way.

Friday, and a day of myriad duties on the vineyard; putting up hooks on walls, thinning vine shoots, packing wine cases, watering selected plants, mowing the lawn, spraying weeds, patching asphalt etc.

Filling up the lawnmower took 30 min., as a new-fangled spout device didn't work, and I looked for a funnel, but there wasn't one, and so I had to pour freehand, again "missing" and getting some on my hand. And again, without adequate protection. But that wasn't enough, as they had me overfill the jerry can afterwards and get gasoline on my pants, boots and hands as well as the ground. A new perp theme of late; inadequate gloved protection, and lo, I get my hand(s) soaked in it.

Saturday, and despite doing laundry twice before this week due to the weed whacking vegetative splatter, I had plenty to do. And to get screwed over, as the assholes had me "forget" my bedding that is cleaned each week. This isn't the first time they have pulled this particular stunt, but I am so fed up with their long running interest in my laundry. The laundromat proprietor guy kept me talking longer than I planned, and lo, if the towels weren't ready. Then I had a coffee to finish off, and a fat blonde woman came to  use the very two washing machines I had used earlier. My towels were in the dryer above those same washing machines.

Onto the drop-in clinic with the very friendly and attentive doe-eyed medical office assistant to see about the test results of two weeks ago. She wouldn't give me a print-out like last time, but instead indicated that if I saw the doctor he could do that for me. I mentioned that I had a few other things going on (laundry) and I couldn't commit at that moment.

The medical office assistant anticipated (har, har) that I would return, and put me on the waiting list as it turned out when I phoned back to ask about the wait time. And so I went to see the drop-in doctor, the office assistant being extra helpful in allowing me to be the next-called patient, scooping the 8 or so who were waiting. In the exam room she lingered some to set the online access for the doctor, and I thanked her for putting me on the list. I had 8 minutes to wait before the doctor came, and lo, if there wasn't masers and plasma flashes the whole time. I suppose the perps were prepping me in some way for deeper magnetic studies of environmental interactions.

The male doctor didn't seem too fussed about the low hematocrit, hemoglobin and ferritin levels, these being re-test results. He asked me if had taken an iron supplement and I said no, as I wanted the results to be replicated as close as possible. Then he asked if I had a stool test and I said no, and he put an order in via the LCD display and keyboard. I mentioned the prior doctor suggested that a colonoscopy might be in order. Then he turns and grins at me for no seeming reason, and keeps his gaze and countenance for longer than socially expected. I filled in the uncomfortable time by repeating what I would do next. I thought it most weird that I got a grinning stare from 2.5' away from a doctor who seemed scared shitless of me during prior visits. He also has done other peculiar poses in past visits, like a seated wide open crotch shot for the entire consult, no more than 5 minutes.

I finally got three months of financial transactions entered and reconcilled in Quicken. Regular readers will know that the perps love to sabotage this activity, and obstructing me in getting on with it every month end is just another arrow in their quiver. Strangely, it went OK mostly, save for the last week of the third month when for some reason, Quicken could not add up correctly. I checked the Quicken entries with a hand calculator, and compared them to the online bank account, and they were correct. It was only Quicken that couldn't add, and only five transactions at that. There were a few screaming ragifications over that one before I was allowed to figure it out.

Almost a shut-in day, not having the mojo to go out hiking. The morning time rain helped in that regard, and that is the main reason I got my Quicken entries done. Besides, the perps don't like me to tan two days in succession, or at least, the same body region, so that might be part of their restrictive plans for today.

I did get some tasks done outside though; one of my hand pruners has a very fat and impractical jaw, so I took my new grinder to it and fashioned it into a sharp point that can sneak into the smallest vine crevices to extract tie or mangled foliage. I got plenty of aircraft coverage while doing this, latterly complemented by the wretched HD motorcycle noise, sometime two at once from different directions.

Anyhow, enough to call this a posting and sign off for another week of unconventional harassment and abuse.

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