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The mini-crisis I generated over my water bill actually provided relief in a way. Inadvertently, I found out how the system works by being wrong. I had the idea that the minimum payment each month included a certain number of gallons that was the limit before additional charges were added to the minimum payment. That's where I went awry.
There ain't no minimum allotted gallonage. Each customer pays the minimum payment plus the cost of however many gallons of water they used. That way they don't have to read the meters every month. It doesn't matter when they read the meters, because when they do read the meters, the fare goes back to the last reading even if it was done six months ago.
Many incidents, in the past, where I get really jacked out of shape over what usually proves to be an over reaction, the only real result of it is that I embarrass myself. Sometime a lot of embarrassment. Other times not so much. Candidly, it's a lousy learning system, but it works for me.
The expression I use a lot that goes, "Why am I always the last to know?" is frequently more than just a whimsical attempt at lame humor. It's like asking a question of the I Ching, but with the whole world as my oracle.
I guess I could climb to the top of a hill and scream out for God to hear my pleas, but it's flat as a flitter around here. The only-est way to climb up high anywhere around here is either is go to the top of the county water towers or the fire towers, which nostalgically, aren't used anymore. Satellites with heat detectors.
So, without leaving my room I spread my chosen questions of the source through the people who read my posts around the universe at large, and then the universe responds by choosing the me-singer (messenger) whose song evokes my me-sayer (messiah), and I-am-is me becomes indirectly so informed.
As you can see, I haven't completely abandoned using tossed word salad to get around the formality of well-formed speech. I write like that just to discover if there is anyone out there who can make sense of it. I-am-is sez wot it sees with accommodated ease. It sure ain't up to me.
I reach for this source that won't abandon me when the graven images of life does. If it wasn't for Google I'd be lost for words based on my formal education more often that it might appear that I do. It's an awkward phase of life I find myself in.
A newborn arrives in the initial physical phase of life. After around twelve years it matriculates into being able to reproduce life sexually. Eventually, after the first Saturn Return, it entered the mental phase of life, and twelve years later, just like with the physical phase, at the age of forty two years old, approximately, it matriculates to mental puberty and the power to create mental children (ideas).
When the same person reaches the age when the second Saturn Return happens in their late fifties they enter the spiritual phase of life, and twelve years later, at the age of around seventy-two they matriculate into create at the spiritual level, and I'm right around that age now.
The orbit of Saturn upon which these figures are cast is twenty-nine and a half years. That's why the second Return happens near the age of fifty-nine, and adding twelve to that leans toward the age of seventy-one and I'm seventy-one and a half. Stuff is happening such that I think I'm consciously aware of it a little bit, but it's nothing to speak of.
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I do not attempt to tell the God's own truth here because I don't know what the truth is or hardly ever. I try to capture the drifting thoughts that randomly appear in my imagination for reasons I may not understand. I don't know if the content I capture with these words is true or false. The Comments settings are turned off to prevent me from having to defend what amounts to little more than fanciful, sometime crude speculation. Great moments in our lives never return.
