Done.

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Well, mostly.  I have to fold some clothes before going to bed.  I went with two wool blankets through the wash, smaller ones.  The drying tower will handle one, the other I simply draped over the washer and dryer.  I thought, perhaps, the longer remnant of the abs pipe might work, but I just couldn't find the right way to set it without more fuss than I thought it was worth.  I will be trying out the folding device, if I can find it easily.  It is supposed to work for shirts, slacks, perhaps jeans.  Yeah, I... like the idea.  If it works, and is faster, it will become a habit.

I checked after each load.  The drain seems to be holding up just fine.  The sink drain keeps dripping, if only a small portion of what it used to spill out, but I cannot for the life of me find where it is escaping.  It doesn't make sense.  All of it is hitting the small waste basket I have under there, but nothing above it seems wet.  Could the drip be exactly that, without any running or wetting of the pipe?  Hmm... I know... I'll cut up an old t-shirt, duct tape a strap in, and see if a spot shows up.  Crazy.  But I'll keep at it.

Have you ever had the feeling that the whole world knows something it can't or won't tell you?  Sometimes almost literally, at least the world you know.  The question is, is it a good something, or a bad one?  It seems to be... bigger than what even I might have suspected in my grandest of paranoia.  It isn't just them, those, or these.  It's... many.  Most seem pleasant about it, but... that... doesn't always mean what it might seem.  Have you watched as an old man or woman is coddled, rightly or wrongly?  The ones who know it often do get upset.  Perhaps fairly, on that side, or not.  The others, well... they are distracted, isolated, perhaps sedated, and know no more about what or why than a blind man at a visual color show.

I am not upset, either way.  I also doubt if they have any more power over how things will work out than I do.  I can't tell if they are more sure things will go one way or another, or if they simply aren't worried.  Many seem intently interested, but always on the same side?  I don't think it matters.  Whether they believe or else, I can walk, run, or stand still as needed, for as long as needed, and... will do so as I see fit.  Such a strange thing.  Then again, perhaps they all just keep thinking I am about to die.

A little sore, tight, and tired.  Not that the work, any of it or in sum, was all that stressing.  It is just the sum altogether, perhaps even the stress of knowing that I have much to do and, perhaps, I may be coming to a point where I don't get to rest like I have been for the last three decades.  It's a frightening thought, especially if it isn't death that I face, but life.  Death is easier, really.  Life is hard.  And, yet, it is my choice if that choice is mine to make.  I dream of even more, in life, but...  And, that is what I think the conspiracy concerns.  Impossible.  Of course.  If that seems to have been my job for the last thirty years, and perhaps for another thirty, forty, perhaps more.

Good night.