My Fingers Are a Little Cold and Stiff

I've decided to re-watch the "Lord of the Rings" films. I watched the first one tonight.
I went to Wal-Mart. I bought toilet paper, among other things.
Chief is the most absurd creature I have ever seen.
I enjoy hyperbole.
I had a dream about Daulton last night. He was trying to kill me. The quandary I had was how to stop him without actually hurting him because it seemed entirely unfair that I could break him in half so easily, and yet I couldn't just let him shoot me or something.
Anna's looking up persimmon recipes. There is a persimmon tree in her parent's front yard. The idea is that this year we actually do something with said persimmons. I don't even really know what a persimmon is.
I've got about a million episodes of "Good Eats" recorded on our dvr, and yet I still don't have the one episode I really want, where he makes chicken fried steak. I have the recipe itself, but I need to see him actually make it again because for some reason I don't think it's turning out quite right.
Anna did the dishes today. I dried them. We make an awfully good looking team.
Daisy needs to be fixed. Anna feels bad about putting her through that. It'll happen sometime soon.
Every month or so, some lady comes by the apartment and offers to administer various health tests to the residents. Today she came and tested their hemoglobin. Last month she tested blood pressure. Next month she is testing something else, but I can't remember what. I have a flyer though. Daulton wouldn't leave her alone. He wanted to know what everything was. He even asked if he could get tested. Either he has no idea when he is annoying people, or else he annoys people on purpose. I would say it is likely a combination of both.
I might go have some pudding.
This feels like a short post kind of night.
Sky blue and black striped boxer briefs.
On a sad note, Beulah's son passed away. As I understand it, it was an expected thing, but of course, it is still hard on her. As I was heading into the office this morning, she beckoned me over and talked to me a little bit. Mostly she wanted to ask if she could use the Community Room tomorrow for the funeral dinner. I said that of course she could. She also started talking to me about her sons truck. It would seem that she is in a fight with his friends over who now owns the truck. Beulah really seems determined to have it too. Her sons doesn't seem to have had a will, so I guess we'll see what happens.
Apartment 120: Beulah
Appropriately, we are on to Beulah today. She looks very old, with very white hair. She also had Parkinsons, and as a result, she shakes badly. I fill out her money orders for her each month because she shakes too badly to write. She tends to get upset about the doings of the other residents. Bobbie's nonsense chatter drives Beulah crazy because Bobbie a) can't mind her own business and b) never knows what she is talking about. Alice's children also really bother Beulah. "Bum, bum, bum, bum, bum" she tells me about them. Beulah's apartment is another one that I hate to visit. Unlike George and Katie, whose apartments reek obviously of cigarettes, I can't place the smell of Beulah's apartment. Whatever it is, it honest to goodness makes me want to vomit. It has a very rotten food quality to it, but somehow I think it's mixed with filthy litter box odors from her cat and possibly other stuff. Whatever it is, it leaks out into the hall and makes it unpleasant even to walk past her door. She does have people who visit her. There is one guy that I notice coming by a great deal. Beulah has referred to him as "the cripple," and I don't know what his real connection to her is. But he is obviously very handicapped. From the waste up, he seems to be alright, but both of his legs look undersized. He can only walk with the help of a cane in his left hand and his right hand on his right knee to keep the leg straight. Since her son passed away, I have seen a good deal of other people coming in and out. I don't know if they are his friends or her family or what. Some have been carrying papers and such. I think a lot of it has been funeral planning. Sometimes this job makes me sad.