Digging out of the hole.

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Paying bills seems like a simple thing. One either writes a check, fills out an envelope or places an address label, seals it, adds a stamp, then transports the collected and assembled pieces to a post office box, OR, calls the business and attempts to figure out a maze of a telephone directory, usually getting through to another automated system, and pays using a credit card or debit card or perhaps even through the use of an electronic check. Of course, that is only necessary if one has not set up automatic payments. Simple, of course.

These things are not at all simple when the world of flesh becomes an anomaly. When even my name, whispered to try and gain some grasp of the flesh within which I am encased, sounds more like a single echo of a meaningless mantra whispered a thousand miles away than a wake up call or a form of identification. Dreams, sleep, wakefulness, function, form... all meaningless drivel... things I no more understand in the context of my senses than you must understand of my living state of mind, at least to the lengths and depths and heights of that state. I do not need dope. Nothing is this pure. Still, if I could bottle it and sell it, I would put cocaine and opium (opiate) dealers out of business. Actually, I think I could train someone to find this, but I would not do so. Some of them, many of them, most of them, would die on the way.

But I do think the fever, as I said, has broken. I may not be much better, as to function, but the planning stages are doing well. Further, I was able to go online and get several bills paid one way, get another paid another way, and set up plans that, if not automated yet, might soon be. I used three or four systems as a raw recruit, pushing and tugging to figure where to type what, what to allow through my virus and other filters, and then what to do once it was all connected. And, without fail, I took the tasks out like a pro. All but one bill may now be paid either automatically or online. My local utility bill. I am going to talk to them, if I can figure out how to be awake during their office hours, to find out about that. Even if they only allow it as a special case, if I explain my situation, I think everybody would come out better. They get paid, I receive services.

I am also considering what to do with storage, food storage, cooked food storage. Have you ever noticed how exact one has to be in order to say exactly what one means? I would prefer glass or ceramic, meal to three meal sized, since I cannot seem to find gallon and two gallon sized items that seal. I am looking for something that is freezer (if not directly, of course) to oven ready, with microwave and dishwasher readiness thrown in. The price may force me to mix plastic containers in there, which are only good for the refrigerator no matter what the label says and in my opinion.

It is odd. After nearly a decade of attempts to perfect my cooking skills, tools, storage, and such, I find myself still learning. Tools that were perfectly good yesterday simply vanish, some not to be replaced at all. The spiraling economy, litigious nature of the West, and many other factors are all playing a part in a sudden crash of the availability of fringe products. That is not really something I can do a thing about in the big picture. Still, attempting to do what I need, get what I need as I want it, and watching my few pennies in the process... well, that is what I can and am doing. If I would stop taking trips to the dark and light nether realms. Sheesh! A trip to a couple of online stores might see me to success. I will probably just price, look locally at two places I have in specific mind, and then either order by Tuesday or have them in my home tomorrow.

I win. Hush.