the rix mix

I was missing Virginia, my counselor at Bridgeway House, who died suddenly a few years ago around Christmas. How when I was stressed out by practical stuff I 'd walk over there - once Bridgeway you're always Bridgeway, wait my turn, plop down in the chair in her small office, decorated with photos of her poodles, & she'd smile & ask, "What the problem, bubbala? You should stop by more often, we miss you." I'd leave with some reassurance & do-able advice, or she'd look someone up in her massive Roledex & make a call for me. While I was thinking of her, handyman Louie came by with the monthly exterminator. I learned the laundry room is still available but I needed the key from the woman in the apt next to it. Someone had indeed hammered the coin boxes. Then I reminded Louie the bathtub drain had to be snaked. Louie asked if I could wait until Monday. I said, fair enough. Louie's word is usually good. So I walked up to the bank for couple rolls of quarters & suspected Virginia was still being my angel.  But she was just preparing me for an larger problem in my apartment.


 Plus, my new, inexpensive vacuum cleaner that received very good user reviews on Amazon shipped.

Labels: home furnishings, Mahalo, mental health