Shake the Ground

11-20-2018
As I write this the ground and this building I live in is shaking. The garage opposite my window across the back lane is getting demolished as I write, with the aid of an excavator and a dump truck. And the fact that I am home at 1000h on a Tuesday to witness this is also not a fluke; as it "happens" the boss wasn't in and there wasn't anything assigned to do, nor any tasks outstanding. I wasn't the only one in these circumstances, and I drove my co-worker home as well. The two installers at work were also running out of things to do and were on the brink of heading home too.

Back to the excavator for a moment, and the articulating boom with the bucket and thumb on the end. Have I not mentioned before that the perps like to arrange boom trucks to transit, and more often, work with extended booms in my proximity with inordinate frequency? Many times I think, but this time it is only 20' away and shaking the place. And too, the demolition of buildings seems to be big deal, with the inevitable conclusion of the debris going to the landfill. Construction of buildings is also of perp interest too for that matter, though it of course takes longer.

Yoga last night, and a full house of some 18 other yogis. I don't know why the woman behind me had to park her mat 6" away when there was plenty of space elsewhere in the room, but hey, this is "normal". The E. Indian male shirtless freak wasn't there, and hence none of that purposeful gliding in at the last second to put his mat beside mine, like he did twice in succession.

The yogic freak show last night seemed to be about tattoos; at least two full arm jobs on women, and the female instructor was also full measure in that department. (I can barely look at her). There were at least three more women with lesser arm tattoos, the scripted writing going up the arm for crissakes. The instructor said next week's class will be her last, so it is either that the next instructor and her unsightly tattoos are going to be more prominent or much less. We shall see.

Another yoga instructor feature the perps like to manipulate is the manner of the instructor's tone of speech; is the instruction delivered as more of a suggestion/request, or as an insistent command. This seems to be a big deal for the perps, as one instructor who had much more of an authoritative command type delivery only lasted one session about three years ago. Go figure.

The loathesome game of huggies in the supermarket, but this time it was my turn. After work I went SOF and a woman viticulturist I know was there and greeted me with a hug. We chatted only briefly, and as her boyfiend was there. I met her at the harvest party two weeks ago, and again, didn't get much interaction time before we were interupted. I had spoken to her at length last year, on two occasions. It would seem the perps are up to their games of limiting contact time with known associates. She is one of the few people I find conversational and interesting and we never failed to chat at length whenever we have crossed paths in vineyard jobs in the last three years.


11-22-2018
To the big city of Kelowna today, to get my IV iron transfusion, as the Good Doctor determined I was low and she also had done prior diligence in determining that I don't absorb iron. I was hoping to meet her and get some idea of how to turn this into a more quantifiable and consistent treatment regimen, rather than me phoning for my "annual" iron check up. And too, the Good Doctor wasn't very consistent this year, as I had to remind her that a ferritin test was inadequate, and she had to re-test me for other iron parameters. As to what they all are and their relative levels I don't know, nor am I any the wiser as to how the results were interpreted. I had to remind her last year of the same thing. So yes, the Good Doctor is losing her status IMHO, though she deserves full credit for disposition for action.

Curiously, I didn't get to see the Good Doctor this time, and only the recently hired nurse administered the IV feed. And the price went up $100 from last year, so I felt a little miffed that I didn't get to articulate my need to get this whole deal down to a more predictable schedule. The last twice I had the iron IV, the office staff babes popped by to check up on me, presumably in place of the doctor, as the process takes over an hour. The nurse did check up on me, but wasn't nearly as attractive though.

I went early to the big city to the tool supply store N of town and got a 1/8" round over router bit after three weeks of promises from the boss man as it is holding up completion of our chair rail installation at the hospital construction site. I was just plain fed up in other words, as he had already travelled to Kelowna twice in the last two weeks and failed to get the router bit as promised.

I got back to the hospital construction site at 1230h, and lo, if someone from the crew, who (unexpectedly) took a day off with the boss man in Kelowna last week, didn't also "happen" to be getting the same router bit as stated by the boss man. No good deed goes unpunished, sabotaged, compromised, duplicated or otherwise interfered with. As it "happened", the boss texted the co-worker in time and he did not get the router bit, and loaded up on purchasing a large number of tools for his own use. A curious "coincidence" I find, given the perps interest in sending others I am working with to the same stores, (this time a hours' drive away) and of course, engaging in financial transactions (for similar items, e.g. tools). Said co-worker was there in the big city last week, and didn't get any tools then, and had a day off two days beforehand. All too odd IMHO. And if I have a tool fetish, one can be sure the perps have long arranged this for whatever reasons they have in this.

And what is with the perps arranging finger cuts of late? I have had three in the last week, and the last most was most odd as I did not run my finger into anything sharp. Yesterday it was an obvious jerkaround; I had used a chisel while kneeling on the floor, and then placed it 12" from where I was using my R hand, and lo, if my L hand didn't inexplicably move for no purpose and get run into the chisel. I was absolutely pissed, as it was a blatant mind fuck stunt. And it "happened" at the same location of last week where the aforementioned curious cause finger cut erupted. The perps just love to arrange blood "samples" as I call them, usually arranging blood to drop onto the floor or nearby objects.

Another imperative of the perp assholes is to slow things up, and bloodletting with arranged finger cuts also serves that purpose. On both occasions, I was in the groove, efficiently attending to something that I know how to do well, and then the assholes struck with a finger cut to then break up the continuity and sense of purpose. Meaning that I had to go to the office and clean it up, and put on a band-aid. Like what the fuck for?

Other continuity disruptions this week were when guys came by with innocuous reasons, as in lame questions, when I was in the groove and getting on with end banding. I was using the router and the new bit to get the plastic imitation wood grain pieces made up that go on the exposed ends of the MDF chair rails, finally attending to this pointless (IMHO) imposed delay that the boss man invoked in spite of his avowed interest in finishing this particular job. My regular co-worker for the chair rails, the passive-aggressive Russian emigre mentioned in past posts, also came by to run his hand over the routed pieces I had made up. Funny that, with the perps longstanding interest in cutting tools, from knives onward, and he shows up, when he was busy on another assignment that kept him fully occupied. Even more curious was that he later came by to sweep up the plastic chips that had spewed from the routers over the prior two hours I was in the cutting room. It has been most unlike him to do any sweeping or cleaning, especially if it was for me.

Anti-metal music here, aka bluegrass-like; I won't vouch for the lyrics, but to hear good music and see such accomplished performers having so much fun is too hard to resist giving this a link. David Rawlings Machine as they like to call themselves; Hot Corn, Cold Corn needs some lyrical translation for this northerner, but I play it most nights of late.

Enough for a post for the week I think, even if the multitude of workplace gangstalkers is so predictable in "arriving" when I turn corners or enter or exit the building. Also, elevator egress (of me, and my gangstalkers) are a big deal for the perps, something that they taught me early when all this insane abuse rained (or reigned) down 04-2002 and hasn't let up. Suddenly, all manner of folks just plain "forgot" normal elevator etiquette of letting the passengers out before entering and started piling in to prevent my egress and/or to bump into me on purpose.

In support of this activity, they even pulled an obvious teleportation job a few months ago at this work site, mentioned in a posting at the time, where the guy (supposed tradesman) gets out on one floor and then "somehow" shows up on the next higher floor getting on, with no conventional discernible means or available time to pull this off. That he was wearing a backpack and had it pushed into me (due to the small elevator and high passenger load) added to his perp cred. The perps like to arrange backpacks to back into me, the usual ploy being that the wearer feigns obliviousness of their extended depth. Another past common location for this stunt is public transportation, aided by the buses being peculiarly busy for that time of day and direction.