In a backpack, or front carrier?
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In a backpack.
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When I got home last night there was an ambulance in front of my building with it’s lights on. Inside he building I didn’t see or hear any activity.
My building is C-shaped and divided into two mirrored halves. The elevator is in the middle — odd numbers proceed to the left and even numbers to the right. My apartment is 401. Beneath me is 301. Above me is 501. I can look across the gap and see the windows of all the 02 apartments. We all have some kind of drapes of blinds to have a bit of privacy but also let light in.
Around 8pm an email arrived from the management company. It explained a woman had died in the building during the previous night. The subject line mentioned it happened in apartment 402. The body of the email, however, said the death occurred in apartment 401.
I thought about sending back a correction, but under the circumstances that seemed self absorbed. A small detail that probably didn’t matter. Anyway, I thought for a minute and decided I was still alive.
I looker out to the windows of 402. Lights were still on in the kitchen, living room and bathroom. The bedroom was dark.
This morning another email was sent out by the management company correcting the apartment number. The death had indeed occurred in 402.
In 402 the lights are still on.
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What was it like being dead for a few hours? So many questions.
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It was odd seeing my apartment number there. After all, could I prove that I was alive? In fiction the dead are always the last to know.
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Does “I think therefor I am” apply?
All I can say is beware if the light in 401 ever goes out.
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MACRON RE-ELECTED 
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Happy Cake Day (something not meh, I hope)!
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I have used a ride share service for the first time.
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Chicago is cold today. It feels like autumn.
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Happy May Day! 
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I woke up this morning and my apartment was 86 degrees. It felt chilly.
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Low humidity?
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Acclimation.
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Not a fever then.
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No, I guess a side effect of living without air conditioning.
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Been doing that for the last few weeks, in 90+ weather, high humidity. Very much looking forward to an end to it.
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My mother has heard of USB for the first time.
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The summer os 2020 I started stripping a century of chipped paint off a rusting steam pipe in my bathroom. A pipe is a very hard thing to strip. It’s curved.
It took a lot of effort and chemicals, but I got it stripped, sanded, primed and painted by the fall. Then the heat came on for the first time, and blisters appeared.
Most of the blisters were around the heavily pitted area closest to the floor. The previous owner had wrapped two layers of sisal rope around the pipe to act as protective insulation. Water had been soaking the rope, and flowing to the lowest level, for who knows how long.
I tried to fix the situation. But with the heat coming on regularly there wasn’t much I could do. Time had run out. I put some more acrylic primer on the parts I was trying to work on, and left it for later. It looked bad, but wasn’t going to get any worse.
Now, it is two years later. I know more about stripping, I have a Dremel tool to deal with the deeper rust, and I know about Rust-Oleum.
Temperatures have been dropping. i don’t have much time to work.
For the past week I have been re-stripping off the paint and primer from two years ago. Stripping paint is miserable work. Strenuous. And in the end you get a pile of what can only be described as toxic chewing gum.
On Saturday I locked myself in the bathroom and abraded the last problem areas with the Dremel tool. The whole room was covered in rust dust. By that evening I had given it a last sanding and Rust-Oleumed it. Now came the primer.
I had bought a new can of primer on Friday evening from a reputable store. I needed a new 32 oz can of Ultra Spec DTM acrylic primer. I was told in the store it was no longer made. Instead they sold me what they assured me was the same thing. Something called STIX. By the time this STIX had dried on Saturday night I could see it was not what I wanted. Rust was breaking out all over it.
An entire week’s work obliterated.
On Sunday I realized what I had to do. I had to strip it for a third time. I compressed a full week of work into one day. In the early hours I went to bed with a sore throat. I woke up this morning feeling dead. Not dizzy or spaced-out, but like I wasn’t getting enough oxygen. I think the fumes from the stripper dissolved all my mucus membranes. Today I had a cough and the symptoms of a cold as my lungs cleaned themselves out. And with all the sanding and stripping I’ve been doing over the past week, my iPhone no longer recognizes my fingerprints.
Today I sanded it once more, Rust-Oleumed it once more and primed it once more. This time I bought a Coronado alkyd primer. I think this is going to work.
Epilogue:
Have you ever thought about the smell of Rust-Oleum? When you first start working with it the smell is revolting. Like potato salad pulled out of a trash can. But then, after a while, it starts to become appetizing.
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What a story. Stripping paint is a pain; stripping rust is even worse. I did that once years ago, but outside due to the fumes. I think the stripper was based on phosphoric acid.
Do you have a respirator? I use one for spray painting and harsh cleaners, and nowadays even for using superglue if I have more than one joint to glue (like on a model).
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