I took time to go to the haircutting emporium at the mall this morning. Getting there five minutes after it opened was not wise, but I couldn't get out of the house early enough to be standing in front of the gate when it rolled up at ten. What with all the phone calls, and the toilet stopping up again (this is getting to be a cyclical phenomenon, like tides or locusts), I felt fortunate to get out of the house at all. So instead of being first in line, I was behind all the losers who had nothing keeping them from being ahead of me. "Thirty minutes," the receptionist told me.

"I'll be back," I said, and headed to the other end of the mall to the independent bookseller, passing the more conveniently located chain store on the way. I found what I was looking for, paid (charged it, of course - no cash), and walked back to the car to stick it in the trunk. I got back to the clip joint just in time to have to wait another fifteen minutes for my name to be called. Thank the Golds I got Jill, the highly efficient manager of the saloon, er, salon. She does me like I like it. Nice hands, pleasant manner.

On the way back home I stopped at the post office, fully expecting to open my box and pull out the check the Boss mailed almost a week ago. No check. Damn. Now I have to juggle the last three hundred dollars for at least one more day. That doesn't go far when the minimum payment on the credit card (due today) is four hundred. The Boss hates late charges even more than finance charges, and he sputtered when I told him, but it's not as if I haven't done my part. I've done everything but pay the company's bills myself.

Wait a minute! I have paid the company's bills, because I'm (a) working without a paycheck, and (b) loaning the company money from my own credit card. More than I take home in six months, in fact. I can't wait to see how this all works out, karmically speaking.

Now the problem is that we can't borrow enough money to pay all the bills that will be due before I get back from vacation (if I go). A check is due in during the time I'm planning (was planning) to be gone. The logical conclusion is that I can't afford to leave with everything in the air like this, especially not for a full week.

Two days ago, these buildings, which are located just outside my front door, were a nondescript beige.

My landlord will be moving into the house behind this workshop/storage shed/garage configuration next month. But he still hasn't cleared the weeds behind the yard, as promised.

Later: Now we have a new plan. The Boss is going to be staying in the area later this week (at his ex-wife's house, no less). His idea is that I write the checks I would send out if we had money. Then I give him a key to the mailbox and let him send out the checks once we get a payment in. This sounds to me as if I'm giving something away, some kind of control over both the checkbook and the mailbox. I don't like it, but if it gets me out of town, I'll take it. I just have to think through all the possible debacles that could result, now and in the future.

In other words, I get to do what I do best. Worry and obsess over details beyond my control. Yay!