Sunday, June 10, 2018

Brown Toe

The fungal infection on my foot for the past 16 years, a brown streak covering half my big R toe, has increased in size, and is even breaking up the nail. Ergo, a trip to the walk-in doctor, this time without getting skunked. That is, in these here parts, these kind of clinics shut down after x number of patients in a day. So going there anytime after 1500h is a risk as to whether they are open or not. Some weirdos in the waiting room for sure, and the bouncing foot games were prominent; at least 4 of the 8 parties ahead of me had this "problem". A young E. Indian gave me a pointed stare at one point, and then kept her head down for the rest of her 25 minute stay in the waiting room. Like WTF; we are close to 40 years age different, and I have no interest in dating anyone, so why the stare?

A 30 second meeting (yep) with the doctor, the foot exposed for 10 minutes while waiting, and I got my Rx and was done with it. A later $107 hit for the medication, and now some 84 days of 1x/day application for crissakes.

And lo, if this wasn't the same foot where I had an unexpected boot lace failure two days prior. Considering I have the uninvited company of an insane agency that is obsessed with my footwear and shoe laces, I cannot consider this to be a coincidence. As to why, I don't have a clue. In the long past I have had double tied shoelaces suddenly unravel in mid-street, forcing me to stop, re-locate myself out of the way of traffic, and then get treated to a sudden gangstalking swarm while re-tying the shoe lace.

A later trip the SOF supermarket; going at 1900h, earlier than I usually do to avoid the gangstalking intensity. And yet more weirdness; this 140lb punk-ish guy in biker leathers with his chin pointed up was leaning up against a pallet load of items, just hanging around, not even a shopping basket in hand. Like WTF; doesn't everyone just hang around with nothing to do in a supermarket? Pu-leeze; the hang-around section is where the seats are for eating. Said extra-obvious stalking scum was later doing a walk-by stalking just outside the store as I was at the checkout, still no groceries in hand. Talk about a fish out of water, and then he doubles down for reprise stalking. Go figure.

A new yoga instructor tonight. She started last week, but I "happened" to miss the class due to an extra long nap attack. It seems every time they change the yoga instructor, I "somehow" miss the first class. I think this is the fourth time this has "happened".

My daughter's birthday yesterday, and I phoned twice and had sent her a card with a gift card well in advance. She finally deigned to return my call today. I just find this whole relationship deal so contrived and faked; she sends me one email/mail about my prostate cancer episode that began in 06-2016, (diagnosed for me on her birthday in another round of high coincidence), in mid-2017 when treatment plans were well in place. "Try (harder) to look like you care" I might say in a unguarded moment.

I finally made my phone call to the WA, USA clinic for ADD, for an appointment, a plan that I had for six months and kept getting de-motivated. What it takes to get needed things done. This was in the works after the local shrink turned out to be an outrageous quack whose epic obstruction will never be forgotten. After hearing from a co-worker who has ADD who saw this same quack to the same non-result, I wrote him up RateMD. Search "MacIntyre Penticton" to see my rare online evisceration of one of these capable crazies, aka, psychiatrists. Though to be fair, there are a few doing brain scans who know what they are doing and are genuinely helpful and doing good work. Beyond that, it is "darts in the dark", a quote from one such progressive and respected brain scan proponent.

After the hi-jinx in 2003 when crossing the USA border, heading to Seattle to clean out my apartment, when the border patrol pulled their guns on me for no reason whatsoever, I am not optimistic that I will make the above appointment in person. I haven't been back there since, so more trepidation. But the perps do like to crank me when crossing borders, so who knows what that was about. And for the record, I don't do anything odd or illegal, nor do I have any criminal record or other legal issues that would draw their attention.

 My vineyard fickle friend came for a visit last evening. He likes to sample my chairs it seems, a continuing "habit" (assignment as I see it) of his where he sits in multiple chairs over the evening. As it "happens", he is going to purchase a Ford Escape, the same make of vehicle as mine.

A 9 hour sleep lat night, and then I got hit for a two hour nap attack late afternoon for crissakes. Why is it they wake me up halfway through these nap attacks, and then just when I think I can get up, I get hit with another hour? This "happens" nearly every nap attack; a mid-nap attack awakening to see the time, then resolve to get up, and then get hit with a substantially longer nap.

I got the vehicle washed and waxed today; normally a May activity to avoid the intense sunlight, but given the constant sleep (as in nap attacks) disruptions, along with the de-motivation blues, it didn't get done. But on a Sunday, the weather cooperated, and I got cloud cover enough so the wax didn't cook on the vehicle before I could buff it.

I was looking to upgrade my sorry work existence with a laborer job in a metal working plant, that paid better with benefits and was full time, but wasn't allowed to even pull a resume together. I got scrambled and suddenly demotivated. It seems the perps want me to work with plants and not have it full time. Now ten years of farm work, and per usual, it isn't full time. After the puff-ball interview of January, and the non-interview of April, both jobs where "viticulture experience is preferred" and were full time, it is plain obvious that my career path, such as it is, isn't my own. Which I strongly suspect, was true all along, since I began to work.

And of interest to me, my planted fantasy figures have come to a terminal end. Now 16 years of being a MLB player and other heroic athletic exploits, this fantasy figure has come to a premature end due to a traffic accident. Fantasy funeral and memorial events are getting played in mind of late. I wonder what this portends, though with the ongoing fuckery, extra pit-lamping, gangstalking etc. of late, I don't believe the Thems have anything planned for me of like kind. After 47 years of covert surveillance and harassment, and now 16 years of overt harassment, I cannot envision they would stop, or in any way change anything until they have attained whatever nonconsensual human research results they are after. And of the 47 years, when aged 2 to 5 y.o. there was three years where they wiped most of my recall. God knows what they did to me then, and the many other TI's and subjects who suffered the same fate.

And what is with the increased itches of late, often on my face? While doing vineyard work and no one else is around, I wear headphones and listen to music. And it seems the love to create an itch behind my glasses which means I need to take them off, then my hat, and then my headphones. Usually these are timed about 10-20 minutes into a music listening session or after I change the listening session. Another timing for planted itches is when I finish a row, and then go to the next, proceeding 180 degrees in the opposite direction, a time honored event where others also seem to arrive, or other fuckery erupts.

Anyhow, time to get this posted and call it a week.