A tentative plan for more random reading...

 ...after I get done reading the entire Bible (in translation):

1) The Dead Sea Scrolls (in translation);

2) A standard collection of non-canonical (Christian) texts (in translation); and

3) The Nag Hammadi codices (in translation).

And maybe some (Jewish) apocalypses, if they're not in the standard collection of non-canonical (Christian) texts?

I've also thought of reading Machiavelli and Sun Tzu, too, but it's not clear how they'd fit into reading times in my life... I read long narrative classics in bed and other stuff before that, but those don't seem to be much one way or the other, and so I can't yet picture myself reading them.

Resthome work imbalance, and its effects.

At the resthome, having limited capacity dining has turned out to be a shit-ton of work; serving everyone in their rooms is about the same amount of work as serving everyone in the dining hall, but doing half and half is just a killer, and a lot more work to boot, since you have to help some people to get there and back, but you have to help deliver trays, too, and on top of all that some residents are forgetful and extra people show up or never come down to eat in the first place, since they can't keep track of which meals they're scheduled for to come on down to the dining room.

And, some days it's been so busy, me and my one skeptical (Mexican) coworker have actually missed our meals.

So, the other week I asked her, "?Que es la dieta de [name of the resthome]?" ('What is the diet of [name of the resthome]?')

She shrugged, and so I was like, "Mas trabajo y menos comida" ('More work and less food').

"Good one," she was like.

On (Tibetan) frames of reference.

Like this past week at the resthome, I bumped into my one (male) (Tibetan) (ex-)coworker's sister, who's a nurse in a different division, and since we were both getting onto shift at the same time and were synched up with our schedules for our temperature checks and whatnot for Covid protocols, I took the opportunity to check in and chat with her as we went through the routine, like I always do with any of my coworkers (they're so nice!).

And, she said her family was fine, but then she shook her head and was like, "But Covid is so bad in India right now."

. . .

(Even though I categorize many of my coworkers as [Tibetan], for the most part their primary frame of reference in terms of countries is actually India, since that's where a ton of [Tibetan] refugees ended up and started families.)

A story about a laser pointer.

The other week at my one assisted living client's with disabilities, somehow the topic of laser pointers came up, so she was like, "Oh, remind me to tell you a story about that later," and so later that same shift, I did.

And, she told me about how when she was living in this city to the northwest of the city where we now live in, she had a good view across the street, and there was this Stop sign where some really sketchy guys would come and hang out, so once she took the laser pointer and pointed it at a guy's chest, and as soon as he noticed it he dropped down to the ground, and so immediately she shut it off, and then she could hear the guys talking and being like, "Daaammnnn, that was on your chest, man, they almost got you!".

"Oh," I was like, and then I was like, "I expected you to tell me that you played with a cat that lived across the street."

"I did that, too," she was like, and she said that there was this little field where a feral cat would come sometimes, and she found out that the dot was bright enough that far away for her to be able to play with it.

Another quarantine precaution: Potential haircuts.

I've been needing a haircut and am tired of giving them to myself, but the barber shop in my neighborhood is almost certainly not keeping up any meaningful precautions.

But, the salon in the resthome has been starting to reopen two days a week, since that's now permissible under state public health department guidelines.

So, I checked around a few weeks ago if I could go there outside of work hours if I don't take any appointments away from residents, and a resthome higher-up said that that was fine.

You have to pay around the same as what you would elsewhere - it's not some service that comes with living at the resthome - but I figure that this is the best way to go; if any place is going to be careful and you can be sure that most employees and customers are vaccinated, it's going to be at the resthome where I work.

I could probably find another random place to go and get my hair cut, but how could you be sure of safety there, if you really don't know how they usually operate?

I doubt it; going to the resthome salon seems best.

Look-alike.

The other week, I was on the subway and I looked up at a stop and I saw someone who was a look-alike for my one (half British) (half Sudanese) friend (the sister of the sister-brother pair), at least from 15 feet away and with a mask on, and so I texted her that.

And, she replied -

Did you get a pic?

- and I said -

No that'd be weird 

 - and she said -

Lol

- and -

I was just kidding

- and that made me reflect on how (British) humor can be very obscure. 

Since she's also been very conservative the past 1-2 years in relation to cancel culture and trans* stuff and Robin D'Angelo and stuff, I also texted her -

She turned out to be white

- and -

So yes, you are white identified

- to which she replied -

Ha

. . . 

Lambrusco.

For Christmas this past year, my one (Mexican-American) music instructor neighbor got me a big bottle of Lambrusco, as a thank-you for when I gave him a vinyl Joni Mitchell album that I had accidentally ordered online (I had meant to order a CD; it was Ladies of the Canyon).

And, I have to say, that shit is good, and I'm surprised that no-one ever talks about it, as a thing that exists out there in the world and that you can just go out and get and drink

(No-one ever talks about port, either, but that's another story.).

So, anyhow, the other week I went to go (safely) hang out with my one lawyer friend from Missouri, and she said we could have some wine, so I popped into a (hispanic) liquor store before going there, and I looked for some Lambrusco and I found some, and so I bought a nice cheap little bottle of that to bring over to her and open up for us.

(I also brought some off-brand gummis that looked intriguing, but that's another story.)

And, she had never had any before, and she liked it.

Anyhow, after some Lambrusco, I texted my one art school colleague who wears women's clothes and is a very theatrically inveterate drinker of Prosecco and I was like -

When life is back to normal and we're out again and you order a Prosecco, I'm going to tell the server...

 "You can get a Prosecco for that basic bitch over there, but I'll have a Lambrusco."

 - and, among other things, he replied -

Homeless people drink that.

 . . .