Dichroic Reflections

running on

OK.

Have reported on my busted-into-truck to the cops, who were very
friendly and laid-back and who told me about another drug house in the
neighborhood they just busted up. In addition tothe one we knew about, which has
now been fixed up and sold. This is not so much a commentary on the neighborhood,
which is a nice middle-class-ish one with big houses, as on the world, in which
this has become a common thing. I figure there's no point moving, on the heory
that any city and many rural neighborhoods have the same problems.

Reported also to the insurance agents, who were also kind and
helpful as they always are but who distressed me because it turns out I can't just
go and get it fixed which would be way too simple, oh, no, I have to get it
assessed first. Which presumably involves me and the assessor and the truck all
being in the same place, which is difficult because they haven't called me back
today when I could leave early and next week I absolutely can't because I'm
teaching a class all week. The agent also helpfully suggested that the assessor
could come to my work parking lot, but I really don't want to drive the truck all
the way across town to work with its dash panels dangling.

Apparently
distress causes me to write run-on sentences. Or maybe run-on sentences just feel
like the right way to express dangling emotions.

Maybe Rudder can
deal with getting my truck and the assessor to each other since he works much
closer to home.

Maybe this weekend will be fun
anyway.

We'll see.