Tuesday Torture

OK, what I am going to describe does not rise to the level of torture, but you know how I like alliterative post titles and alliteration, in general. What I am going to describe, though, is yet another example of how it can be hell to live in my brain.

For the past few days I have had a recurring dream. This dream starts out well; my colleagues and I are informed that we are going to receive a substantial raise. The realization that I don’t work at this place and then, that I am not working at all begins to creep into the dream. These realizations don’t hit suddenly and powerfully; they slowly permeate my thinking. By the end of the dream when I wake up I am completely deflated.

Any amateur or professional psychologists out there care to interpret that dream? Maybe by writing about it I will no longer have the dream.

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In an odd but not too significant coincidence, both my wonderful wife and I received small checks (<$10) yesterday from previous vendors. The one addressed to me was from the utility company we used in the mid-Atlantic; the one addressed to my wife was from DirecTV.

My wife’s check came with an explanation: the damn virus had so affected sports programming that rights holders had received rebates that they were passing on to customers. My check had no explanation. I guess I am grateful that these companies felt obligated to send us money they think we “deserved,” but how do we know how often we are owed money that we never receive?

It was a small blessing that we could deposit these checks from the comfort of our home. Of course, that ability means that brick and mortar bank branches, and the people that work in them, will become less relevant and, therefore, less numerous. Everything is a trade-off.

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I guess I am going to void the powertrain warranty on my Z06, after all. I have been scheduled a little sooner than I thought for the next round of modifications and, if nothing intervenes, the car will be ready a few days before the warranty is supposed to expire.

I don’t know why I am compelled to do this (OCD?), but I will bring the car to the dealer for an oil change before the mods are done by the “speed” shop. It has been about six months since the last oil change, but the car “tells” me that I still have 50% of the oil life remaining. Modern Corvettes use synthetic motor oil, which means oil changes are much less frequent, but more expensive. Again, a trade-off. For the fourth or fifth time, the “sunshade” photo of my car; yep, it’s time for a new pic:

 

 

#TuesdayTorture

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I guess post titles really do matter…

 

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