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In business not about the election, I have moved again. It was a particularly horrible time. Very hot. New place is on the third floor. Many little boxes and things. No moving truck. This apartment is tiny. It has problems. I won't complain about them until I know they are permanent and impossible to resolve. I feel like this is the kind of place that's going to have all kinds of weird things you have to do to it to make it function properly, like, "Oh, jiggle the key this way to get the door to lock." "Turn the hot water dial 3/8 clockwise or else the water will scald you." "Put this rug in front of the clacking vertical blinds or else they'll rattle all night while you're trying to sleep." BLAH. I wish I could just have stuff that worked right. I can already feel the rage starting to boil inside of me.

Today was good at work because I got 14 awards. To explain, the main part of my job is to call owners/developers/architects and find out which general contractor was awarded a particular construction project. It's not hard at all, but you have to deal with all kinds of people on the phone. Most of them don't want to talk to you and would never dream of calling you back. Most days I call about...hmmm...I actually have no idea...maybe 40-50 people. I usually get transferred to people who don't answer and I rarely leave a voicemail message. Another way I can get the information I need is by checking the city's building permits. Today I succeeded gloriously because I started calling the cities for permits. The big cities even have web sites. It's interesting the kind of detective work that can be done online to trace awards without having to deal with the nasty people that much. Of course, there are always some people on the phone or by email that are very nice and helpful. So 14 must be a record. I get around 10 on a good day.


Yesterday I bought groceries, including ice cream, which I have not done in awhile. Ben & Jerry's is the best brand at HEB, hands down. I almost got Half-Baked when I noticed a new flavor, Cinnamon Buns. I dismissed it because it sounded kinda weird to be an ice cream flavor, but then I picked up the box (?) and read the description. "Caramel Ice Cream with Cinnamon Bun Dough and a Caramel Cinnamon Struesel Swirl" It sounded tasty to me and I can usually trust B&J to be good, so I bought it. I didn't try it till about an hour ago. YUM! YUMYUMYUMYUM! I could only eat a little because it's too crazy. It definitely works for me. The cinnamon flavor is wonderful and the pieces of dough are just the right size, plus there are lots of them, so far. I can't wait until I can handle some more of that ice cream.

Finally, the very sad news. My mom called me yesterday in the late afternoon. As soon as she greeted me I knew something was wrong. There is a certain tone of voice that is unmistakable. I was trying not to imagine something too terrible. She uttered, "My mom..." and then broke up and was crying. I asked her, "What?" So very worried inside. I thought my other grandma died. My mom explained that her mom had just called to say that my uncle died. He'd had a heart attack suddenly and there were very few details. The autopsy happened today and I don't have an update yet. I'd only known my Uncle Robby as a child because we used to visit our family in Indiana a lot when we lived in Chicago. He had a wife, my Aunt Norma, and a daughter, my cousin Kendra. He is twin of my Uncle Ronnie who has a disability. He had been helping my grandma by taking care of him a lot of the time. My mom was especially upset because it's been almost a year, to the day, that her other brother, Dan, suddenly died. I got that news via email while I was in Italy with my dad. I had never even met my Uncle Dan before he died. My mom said my grandma is really upset that she's outlived two of her kids. They were both under 50. I don't know about the funeral. I want my mom to go and be with her family, but she's worried about her business. I'm glad she has Steve and my sister with her now and my grandma has Jim and her other sons/daughters/extended family to support her.