Even better day, throughout, but with an even greater spike of righteous indignation at the end.

There was a thing on the shed roof that absolutely required two people to get by. So we took that on and filed it quickly, then pressed past it, completing the roof. All that remains to do: hang the doors for it, seal it up with a little foam insulation, and move the overflow crap into it at last.

Also, there’s a separate very cozy heat-lamped place for stray cats to sleep out there, should they choose to.

Also the wrought iron yard table, with chairs, is repositioned, outside and under the kitchen window, and that’ll be nice.

Also, the front driveway gate has an actual cat door roped to it now–a little hard to visualize that, but the strays are already using it, and it should keep out any but the tiniest of dogs (they’ve been a problem lately).

Overall, these are massive domestic victories, and especially of course that damn shed, which I’ve been On About since high summer.

You can put a blue check on this calendar day for unspecified romantic reasons besides.

***

Later in this evening, in standard aloneness again, I turn to Chhoda for the financial news: PUA, $300/wk Retroactive Unemployment Update from $908B Bill

Bottom line is, we don’t know yet for sure what the half-a-loaf overdue 2nd stimulus bill will contain, but things are not looking great.

In particular, that thorny word “Retroactive”. It looks like there will be absolutely none of that.

You may recall that I said a while back … that without that promise being kept, I would never vote for a Democratic presidential nominee again.

That tripwire has not yet been triggered, because Nancy’s current bullshit is that there will be another stimulus along about February or March. She could still put it there. I doubt that she will.

If she doesn’t, I’m going to keep my promise, regardless of who the Republican Satan is in 2024, and even if Nominee Kamala turns out to be covered in progressive roses like everyone wants us to believe she will be. Hopeless third parties for me until the end of my days, unless the corporate Dems come through with retroactivity. That’s the deal I made, and I will hold up my end of it.

On the bleak and modest upside, the bill supposedly contains 16 weeks of enhanced unemployment to the tune of $300 per.

What that means is that I could probably scrape by until spring without cashing in any big investments, including the pension, and even without cutting a deal with the Empire to be Institutionally Employed in the short term.

That means at least a few more months to grow the subscriber base for my new business-of-writing project, which I am hoping to launch on the Solstice roughly two weeks from today.

Out the other side of March, theoretically, Entreprenurial Abbondaza, amirite?

Yes Sir; that’s the plan Sir sure, ‘n Gobless Us Ever One.