Well, some feedback?

.

.

The loops I am being kept in are still functioning.  But, not... exactly at any pace of great or even tempo?  Methinks.  Still, the sun moves, the clouds come and go... and come back.  And... information is shared.

Insurance?  I received a quote yesterday, that I had agreed already.  However, good to... be certain.  Though the numbers had to be crunched more accurately?  Perhaps.  Oh, not fussing.  Not... with folk.  With reality, more?  Something like that.  Then, today, the signatory epaperwork sent.

Okay, I was able to finish that decisively, quickly, in very short order.  As well, set up to pay the first bill, and arrange for payments on a regular schedule.  For now.  Next year, the plan is to be able to pay cash.  A ten percent savings is worth the... hassle.

The system then asked that I log in to the main branch system.  Which... would be fine.  But it requires an account number, which hadn't been generated, to my knowledge, to that point.  Or, certainly not made available to me.  I contacted my agent, but she was no longer available.  Fair enough.  It is a Saturday.  Surprised she was in at all, to do anything.  I wasn't expecting anything until Monday.

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Then, I received an email.  About a talk.  Tomorrow, I have heard.  Okay.  But I did indicate back that the last deal is no longer in play.  There is some play, still, to the business.  But not what there was.  Every "No.", comes with added costs.  I will do some, and maybe a bit more, but not like before.  Coulda, woulda, shoulda.  While I sweated the equity of the unknown alone.

I have doubts if we can come to a deal that will work, at this point.  Just...  Though, perhaps, the earlier offers were already over that threshold?  But I can't offer less.  I knew that then.  So, now, less so.  I hate being the bad guy.  But... I can't just give it away, especially after blindly offering to do so.

Talk?  They... always talk.  But... I understand.  The world is terrifying, horrific, big, mean, and hungry.  Well, and angry about it.  I run, sometimes.  Or have.  If I have learned, more, to do covered retreats.  Running just gets a guy killed, while tired.  A measured retreat might see one weary, over time?  But alive, more likely comparatively.  So... I retreat, again.  What I sought is not here, what is here is not of interest.  But I... need a few nickels in order to retreat.  Amen.

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I see her.  I do.  I didn't promise any of them, anything.  I don't owe them anything.  They aren't able to be wives, most that I have seen.  Some have failed already, multiple times?  Which is the last stage of grieving?  If that isn't all I see.  American women have been freed from their bicycles?  Fish, it is said, don't need them.  Be free.

Hmm?  Oh, talking to me?  Being boss wasn't ever an option.

I never thought she was pretty, or pitiable, when she cried.

*rictus grins*