Today was a true day of cleaning. Not only did I do 5 loads of laundry, but the cleaning lady also came. I had to give her the sad news that I lost my job, and that I'll be using her on a monthly basis. I also found out that she uses several assistants on an ad-hoc basis, and was planning to let the assistant take care of my apartment while she took care of another assignment. (It's no wonder how she socked away enough off-the-books money to buy an apartment. I just have to give her credit for doing so.)
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I'm not as young as I used to be. And I noticed how much 5 loads of laundry weigh when they are carried down and up 2 flights of stairs - especially when bring up all 5 loads at once. No wonder why I felt a little winded after the last trip upstairs. Now that I'm out of work, it makes sense that I find a way to go out walking for 45 minutes each day while the weather is good. I don't want the one benefit of my former commute (the reduction in blood pressure) to go away now that I am out of work.
I figure that there is a lot that I can take care of while I'm out of work. For example, the ceiling in my bathroom needs repainting - and I can take care of it without much trouble. Yes, I will need to look for work. My resume needs to be updated, and it does need to include my 6 month stint with my most recent employer.
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There is a part of me that says that I should make more time to see my dad at the nursing home. I figure that I'll drop by to see him before going over to the family homestead for my weekly duties. This way, I won't be too tired or depressed after a day of working on the house.
This week, I expect that my brother and I will be inventorying the tools that my dad once sold that still remain in the basement. A fellow at the firm my brother works at offered to buy much of the taps, dies, and mills that we have, but he can't use any of the precision tools such as the micrometers and calibrators that our dad used to sell. This merchandise will go to another person, the same person who gave my dad the taps, dies, and mills that my brother will be selling.
For the most part, there wasn't much in the house worth selling. A while back, my dad had work done on the house, and one of the laborers had access to the attic - where many valuable items were stored. Both my brother and I remember a set of boxed Double-O gauge Lionel Trains that were once in the eaves. Only "Garbage" was left of these trains, none of them having boxes or were in a shape that we'd consider offering them for sale.
Too bad that the fellow that "cleaned out" the attic didn't clean out the basement as well. My brother found some industrial grade solvents that he knew to be hazardous material, and had to find a way to get rid of it. Luckily, he found that there was a local chemical disposal day at a nearby county facility, and got rid of these jugs safely - and in a way that would not tie them back to us.
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There is not a lot that I have to say to my dad these days. Nothing new will be occurring in his life, and I don't want to tell him much about my life. Do I want to tell him about losing my job? No. Do I want to tell him about my worries? No. Do I want to tell him about being transgender? No! No! No! I think you get my drift. Yet, I have to make the time to see my dad, even though we don't have that much to say to each other - as I know the pain of eventual loss will be so much greater if I don't take the time to see him now.
Until my dad took ill, I never realized how deep the ties of family can be. Yet I still wonder what would happen if my brother were to find out that I'm transgender before I'm ready to tell him....