there’s a Dylan song

Stuff’s breaking.

A message from my desktop – “You will no longer be able to send or receive emails.” And from my smart phone – “You will no longer be able to receive voicemails.” Well, you know me (perhaps), so right away I take these updates as some cosmic message that remaining silent ongoing is now ‘The Way’. And yet, that’s likely not right. So I may have to cough up a few dollars a month for increased “space” on the computer, plus strolling down First Ave to T-Mobile later this morning and see if they can delete nearly everything so I’m still able to pretend to be ‘smart’ and hopefully sing along with The Beatles – ‘Hello Goodbye.’

Life’s a trip, when it’s not flat-out sorrowful. The young woman I support at the library three days a week has been and is off for a medical condition, so I’m not working and losing all that money, and in fact ‘all that’ money isn’t much money, but here in this particular journey it kind of is. So giving some of what’s left to Microsoft sort of bites it. Yet – tralala – I don’t get to pick the path along ‘The Way’. Just suit up and show up and walk down it, perhaps, even, device-less. With high-heeled sneakers, if I’m lucky.