Edward Adrift

me had I remained an employee:
The steps on the south side of the building need to be squared off with a liquid concrete bonding agent. As it is, these steps are a safety hazard.
The landing on the north entrance needs to be retiled.
Given the unseasonably warm December we have been enjoying, there is time to prune the trees on all sides of the building.
Again, given the unseasonable warmth, the parking lot lines can be repainted.

    As I wrote earlier, this is just a sampling of the chores left undone by my involuntary separation. By the time I finish these items, there will no doubt be many more things for me to do. I’m sure I don’t have to tell you that maintenance at so large a plant is an ongoing concern. I stand ready to assume my previous position and assist you with these tasks.
    I look forward to hearing from you.
    Regards,
    Edward Stanton
    I am proud of this letter. I fill out the envelopes for Jay L. Lamb and Mr. Withers, seal the letters inside them, affix a stamp upon each, and clip them to the mailbox so they go out first thing tomorrow.
    For the first time in three weeks and a day, I feel content. I like it. I feel so content, in fact, that I will lie down for a nap after I take my medicine. It’s not even 3:00 p.m.

    When I wake up with a start at 10:48 p.m., four unrelated thoughts are in my head.
    The first is that I have to pee really badly. I run into the bathroom, which fortunately is adjacent to my bedroom, and I just manage to get my pants down before the pee comes. It’s like my tallywhacker (I love the word “tallywhacker”) is a miniature fire hose, the way the pee shoots out of me. It is a clear, strong stream, and just when I think I’m about to be done, more comes out. I don’t think I’ve ever peed this much, although I must concede that it has never occurred to me to measure my pee output on aconsistent basis. While the idea has some appeal—I love keeping data on things—I quickly recognize this as one of the compulsions that Dr. Buckley always told me I had to work hard to control.
    In any case, I can now see that Dr. Helton was right: my new medicine will make me pee a lot. Not enough to lose 31.08 percent of my body weight, but a lot. (I just made a joke. I’m pretty funny sometimes.)
    My second thought concerns the new TV show I’m trying to get into. When I call it a new show, I mean it’s new to me. It’s actually an old show called
Adam-12
, and it was produced by Jack Webb, the star of
Dragnet
, so it ought to be good. My mother gave me the DVDs for the first season of the show back in February, after I got the news about Dr. Buckley’s retirement. My mother thought it might cheer me up, but it didn’t. I just put the box on a shelf in my den. It wasn’t until Mr. Withers fired me twenty-two days ago that I started watching
Adam-12
, since I had nothing else to do. While I can definitely see some similarities to
Dragnet
, in that it’s about Los Angeles cops, I’m a little frustrated by the show. That’s what I’m thinking about now. Take as an example the episode I was supposed to watch tonight, if I hadn’t fallen asleep. It’s the twenty-second episode, and it’s called “Log 152: A Dead Cop Can’t Help Anyone.” It comes immediately after “Log 102: We Can’t Just Walk Away From It,” and immediately before “Log 12: He Was Trying to Kill Me.” I’m sure you can see what my trouble is. The stupid logs don’t go in order. I guess the characters, Officer Pete Malloy (played by Martin Milner) and Officer Jim Reed (played by Kent McCord), are all right, although they’re no Sergeant Joe Friday and Officer Bill Gannon. But this show leaves a lot to be desired in terms of consistency.
    My third thought, however, is the reason that I’m getting up and putting on my clothes. If I wait for Mr. Withers to answer my letter and rehire me at the
Billings Herald-Gleaner
, precious time that could be spent on shoring up the property will be wasted. Furthermore, the unseasonably warm weather we have been enjoying could turn quickly—I have years’ worth of data that show this tendency conclusively—and preclude my accomplishing some of the tasks I outlined for Mr. Withers. It’s already been a very cold day. More bad weather could be on the way.
    As I am fully awake and dressed, there is no reason I cannot start on these chores now. I will be happy to do them without recompense (I love the word “recompense”).
    In the basement, I pull together