If the World is Going to Hell in a Handbasket
I’ve got my Pollyanna on, grateful to not be going through any major trials or tribulations. It’s Friday night, I’ve got the air flowing and pork chops just about over the finish line. The dogs have survived another push me pull you romp around the block. Penny’s gone, but back tomorrow. It’s quiet, but not eerily so. A quiet that’s perfect for reflecting on the day.
Dylan’s office is on the third floor of the Bank of America building, where the lobby’s got a living room vibe, with lamps sporting warm incandescent bulbs. Dylan is a young wizard of finance, on a mission to educate small businesses about regulatory hammers like Cal Savers. He’s also starting a First Friday coffee and donuts gathering, and today at 8am was the first of the series. There were six of us. Dylan and John, the hosts; Chloe, the immigration lawyer; Nick, a real estate agent; Jose Luis, print media guru; and me, the user friendly IT guy. Jose Luis brought us up to speed on telling stories rather than advertising, and he’s got a passion for taco trucks that’s got me fired up to go do a taco truck photo shoot. Chloe told us about twenty year waiting lists for certain kinds of visas. Dylan taught us that 1099’ing employees to get out of Cal Savers requirements is an illegal no-no. We were all out the door by 9, on to our jobs and other commitments.
The rest of the morning, I implemented a timesheet solution that needed to be turned around without benefit of a deadline, squeezed in an email setup by remote, and met with my coach, Dena. By then, it was lunchtime, and off to Jake’s Roadhouse for a tri-tip sandwich and accountability with Claude. We ran the gamut, even discussing politics without anyone getting their feelings hurt.
Afternoon meant reaching out to Buckley to see if they’d gotten the photo link, wrapping up various loose ends, then heading into Pasadena for Mother’s Day gifts. One last job for the day. My friend Paul is down with COVID, and he asked if I could stop by and help Annette. She’s just a few months shy of 90 and unable to get past the ten minute mark in that scary carpal tunnel video for an upcoming surgery she may or may not go through with. Annette’s a spry and active one, sharp as cheddar. They never kept sweets in the house, though she’s known to drive down the hill for an ice cream now and then. She eats lots of vegetables and fruit, and she’s worried about the country for the first time in her life. Don’t worry too much, Annette, there are lots of people like you and me and Dylan and Claude, and we’ll muddle through somehow.
