While I'm here...

A successful day I can announce. The car radio was a simple earthing, saving me an arm and part of a kidney on a replacement, and then a possible reversal of a decision to remove an old sign after my reply. I am (and others) justifiably pissed off missing what may have been a 'SLOW MAJOR ROAD AHEAD' sign not too far from me, but that's the game when collecting anything that's beyond it's natural or official life. And as far as I know possibly the only one that was not remade but dropped entirely.
Tomorrow is boring city Arizona potentially, if I am called to ex-grandma's to let in the insurance man after the roof failed. It depends if he comes early or late whether it's my shift, so not certain. Then I can do whatever I like, having gone from Richmond to Hammersmith, then Oakwood and then home to Kingsbury yesterday. Today I wasn't imagining it got dark 20 minutes later than a week ago in the same weather as my father noticed it as well, and the camera doesn't lie as I went to the nearby park after the radio was fixed and took photos till almost 4pm. Last week 3.30 was it. I have the proof.

So I just get on with it and as taught take the rough and smooth as equally as I can, as eventually we are meant to adjust our reactions to both back to zero either way. Be unmoved and the peace within shall prevail. If I get that far I'll become a saint, literally, by the eastern definition. That is a mahatma as their soul has expanded beyond that they were born with. I am therefore being forced to have the patience of a saint, and yesterday was rewarded by an extremely unlikely direction sign before the ultimate disappointment of losing one so rare the next known are 140+ miles away. My own inspiration tends to be extensions of existing projects that just take a jump to another level or direction when worn out.

So I've been working pretty hard, more to come possibly, and at least the big ones are out of the way and cost me almost nothing (the wheel cover fell off the car so had to get a new set but very cheap). I never know what's going to happen next, there is still this random chance of getting what I need at the time which has never happened till this year, and even when I think it may have run out in a particular area. Sometimes it's my own thoughts which are guided, web searches that fill idle evenings can take hours and suddenly strike gold, like when I was metal detecting (minus the gold though).

The same with names from the past except so far none have done more than see me once and return to the ends of the earth. So many total twats and wankers have no trouble meeting a partner and I know I can't be quite that bad and never get half way there. I blamed my height for many years until I saw men about the same size doing OK, and also realised I had plenty in the past but could never keep them long enough to matter. No agoraphobia then either, I went anywhere and did anything so that didn't keep them either, I held in my farts, didn't swear, paid for them most of the time, made them laugh, etc etc, and they still dumped me serially. I didn't try anything kinky (not for months anyway when I knew I'd stand a chance), spit, pick my nose, pick my arse, bathed frequently enough, changed the subject every so often, listened a lot, was nice to their parents, and possibly besides scratching and fidgeting (I'm only human) was pretty average besides my height which is not exactly unusual. I am lost as to the constant failure from the age of 15 when her mother made her stop seeing me, to the one at 20 with no sense of humour, the communist at 18, the one who emigrated within a week at 32, the one at 25 who kept going back to her ex and wouldn't go past first base (if I've learnt them correctly), a few who lived about 70 miles away and couldn't keep travelling, and the one I liked but couldn't be bothered to do the 40 or so miles after the others who were even further, ie the only one who actually liked me back.

So in 49 years more or less (I was after someone in my class at about 3 so started early), I reckon two mutual chances, one stopped by her mother and the other by me as it's easier to be put off when younger and still have hopes of choice. Am I really that hard to tolerate?