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Rooms that I once lived in, rooms that I've since left
I have internet that does not come from a wireless hotspot! The Verizon tech arrived to set up the internet almost at eleven o'clock on the dot, left about two hours later, the internet actually turned on at a quarter to five. At first it moved with the sluggishness of non-ironic molasses and I had to spend further time on the phone with tech support, but so long as I am not directly uploading or downloading any files it appears to function at a decent work-and-amusement-enabling speed. (I miss my account with RCN. They do not service the street on which I live. I did not quite realize until I moved to Somerville how weirdly gerrymandered the phone service in this city is.) I slept an hour last night and feel very shaky, but I can stream all the movies from TCM now.
Yesterday was a ridiculously productive day. After staying up all night to write Calormene fic while listening to Bill Laswell and Coil, I fielded a surprise repair visit from the property manager, made my PT appointment, visited the bank, actually remembered to eat lunch for the first time in several days, made a major dry-goods grocery run to Market Basket, retrieved some items from my cousins' place, visited the library, did a full day's worth of Nokia and somehow stayed awake.
Outside of Verizon, today was mostly work and lots of phone and e-mail conversation with the property manager and with cat rescue services because there turns out to be an abandoned cat living in the morning glories by the front steps. (We have a plan in place. In the meantime, I am feeding the cat. He is talkative, affectionate, hungry, lonely, and keeps trying to get back into his former apartment, which is heartbreaking.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
rushthatspeaks met him on Saturday night.) There were some very loud leaf blowers. I did manage to get out in the evening to Walgreens and the Winter Hill Bakery, the latter of which furnished me with a loaf of incredibly delicious Portuguese sweet bread and some cookies whose names I don't know, and on my way back ended up in a really neat conversation with a woman about my age and her four-year-old son whom I met while photographing two emergency electrical switch boxes in the back of a brick building. I passed out as if stunned for an hour after dinner and ate some coconut-milk ice cream when I woke. Hestia leapt joyfully into an empty cardboard box in the closet which then overturned on her, trapping her like an extremely grumpy hermit crab. Rescued, she promptly leapt into another box as if to show it who's boss. I still need to write about a whole bunch of things. Have some pictures until then.
Yesterday was a ridiculously productive day. After staying up all night to write Calormene fic while listening to Bill Laswell and Coil, I fielded a surprise repair visit from the property manager, made my PT appointment, visited the bank, actually remembered to eat lunch for the first time in several days, made a major dry-goods grocery run to Market Basket, retrieved some items from my cousins' place, visited the library, did a full day's worth of Nokia and somehow stayed awake.
Outside of Verizon, today was mostly work and lots of phone and e-mail conversation with the property manager and with cat rescue services because there turns out to be an abandoned cat living in the morning glories by the front steps. (We have a plan in place. In the meantime, I am feeding the cat. He is talkative, affectionate, hungry, lonely, and keeps trying to get back into his former apartment, which is heartbreaking.
rushthatspeaks met him on Saturday night.) There were some very loud leaf blowers. I did manage to get out in the evening to Walgreens and the Winter Hill Bakery, the latter of which furnished me with a loaf of incredibly delicious Portuguese sweet bread and some cookies whose names I don't know, and on my way back ended up in a really neat conversation with a woman about my age and her four-year-old son whom I met while photographing two emergency electrical switch boxes in the back of a brick building. I passed out as if stunned for an hour after dinner and ate some coconut-milk ice cream when I woke. Hestia leapt joyfully into an empty cardboard box in the closet which then overturned on her, trapping her like an extremely grumpy hermit crab. Rescued, she promptly leapt into another box as if to show it who's boss. I still need to write about a whole bunch of things. Have some pictures until then.
no subject
I can, because we've never kept numbers of property managers after we moved out of a place. Does the property manager have the owner's number, and have they tried it? Because if they're missing the cat, well, and if not they deserve a bad conscience.
Glad you're feeding him-- he's been alert and friendly and adorable whenever I've seen him, and I had no idea he wasn't just a gregarious indoor/outdoor neighbor.
no subject
That's fair. At this point I have already been in multiple conversations with Donna by e-mail and phone, so the idea of not keeping her contact information did not occur to me.
I have the impression that some attempt to make contact was tried and failed, but I don't know the details.
Glad you're feeding him-- he's been alert and friendly and adorable whenever I've seen him, and I had no idea he wasn't just a gregarious indoor/outdoor neighbor.
I didn't see him today, but I put out food and water in case he comes home at an unreasonable hour, as why should he not. The allergic downstairs neighbor confirmed that she sees him every few days and, if either she or her boyfriend is entering or leaving the building, the cat always tries to dart past them and get into their apartment.