we're only ashes.

The weather is awful. Over 100 every day, and over 105 for most of them. Fires in the south have sent smoke our way, such that it is difficult to be outside for any length of time. I still have a half dozen plants in the house that need to be potted up and added to the collection. I haven't had the will to work out on the patio, though.

At work, they abruptly (for us) announced the closure of two other facilities. The work from one of them is going to a new facility overseas (hm...). The work from the other will be coming to us, so we are theoretically in a stronger position than before.

Try telling that, though, to a roomful of people who have just spent the morning wondering why there's an urgent, mandatory plant-wide meeting, asking their supervisors if they're about to get fired, and just got told their peers around the state and country are being let go. If the HR person stuck making the announcement hadn't been the same one to fuck up managing my benefits deductions while I was on medical leave, I might have had real pity for them.

That put something of a pall over the week, if the weather hadn't already killed the mood.

Lewisia: 3 new pieces written

Day job: 42.5 hours

Gardening: fixed via MacGyvering the drip line that keeps blowing apart

Reading: attempted to listen to Faceless Killers by Henning Mankell, bounced off it utterly, I have no appetite for stories about the demonization of immigrants/refugees right now, especially with a narrator/MC who is at best ambivalent on the subject and a cast who was shaping up to be uniformly detestable

Listening: If Arsenic Fails, Try Algebra by Pop Unknown (okay, so, storytime: in high school a girl who was much cooler than I gave me a mix CD. It is one of the soundtracks of my youth, for all that I had no idea who the artist was. I still have the physical disc, even. I sorted out, some twenty years on, that all but the first track were Pop Unknown songs, and were in fact the tracks of this album out of order. It is still exactly what it ever was to me, which is good, early aughts alt stuff.), 24 by surasshu (chiptunes, essentially, meant to be ringtones, but a pleasant little instrumental journey through the hours of the day)

Aftermarket Parts: got clearance from my surgeon’s office for getting my nips tattooed on

Clock Mouse: 1533 words--on a roll!

Other: got mum’s new phone all set up and restored to the degree possible