A sackful of quid-pro-quo aches and pains remembers yesterday's activities and does not look forward to more of the same today. Yesterday, I put in three air conditioners in preparation for the hot weather to come. Two I managed alone, with effort. One was simply stronger than I and I had to ask for help ... something I never did in years past.
After that, I got out the weedwacker and started to finish off the job neither of my sons could when cutting the grass. It makes me cranky when people say they'll do something and then either "forget" or don't do the best and most obvious job they can. How are you supposed to trust anyone when it comes to the big stuff if they can't handle the little stuff? I guess, "I got your back" really is a fiction phrase used in cop or war movies. The age of Facebook and Twitter takes its toll ... everyone wants to be trusted and praised, but who is capable of doing something trust- or praise-worthy ... which is to say, just doing the job right or to the imaginative best of their ability?
Yup, it put me in a crabby mood, having to do what I hoped might be done for me because my body simply is losing its vim, vigor and capacity. Whatever my crabbiness yesterday, today the aches and pains call out like echoes on the canyon walls. Quid-pro-quo ... if you do that shit, asshole, of course you're gonna pay the price.
"If you want something done right, do it yourself" ... true dat. But isn't it possible to get something done right when asking others to perform it? If it were, the saying would not exist: "If you want something done right, do it yourself."
Aches, pains and complaining.
Yesterday, on another front, an old Zen chum wrote and asked if maybe I shouldn't clean up this blog site... among other things, get rid of the picture of myself in robes: If I'm not any longer plying the Zen trade, wouldn't it be somehow better to replace the picture ... stop fakin' it? Maybe he's right, but 1. I don't have a lot of pictures of myself and I trust the photographer who took the pic and said it was OK and 2. I dislike having my picture taken and 3. Who gives a shit what anyone is wearing as long as they're not trying to bilk others? If "liar" were the worst thing I might be accused of, I'd be home free without a care. I really should clean this place up, but haven't got what it takes.