Fumbles (attempts at fixing)

In coffee, Local projects, news coverage, notes, proto drafts on June 13, 2016 at 7:02 am

The odds of fixing either one of the fumbles? Unknown, but slim. A missed deadline in one case, a misunderstanding in another – both have serious consequences on other people’s lives.

Dealing with the first this morning. Another trip to the préfecture in Albi. A friend materialized last night for the drive there and back with the parents. The front liners at the bureau des étrangers wicket aren’t devoid of empathy – even if, under the weight of demands, their bosses’ expectations and the Monday morning crawl, you have to give empathy a chance to stumble out of the back room. Even assuming empathy will show up, nothing guarantees empathy will prevail. So it’s good to know a friend will be there both on the way in and on the way back.

Second fumble: I said one thing, his teacher understood another. Right now, this leaves the boy hanging in mid-space like a cartoon figure arrested in mid-fall. Except this isn’t a cartoon. Spoke with the teacher on Saturday morning. Will speak to her again today. Keeping toes and fingers crossed the school will find available space and sign him up in an alternate program.

Sticking to finding solutions and avoiding laying the blame on myself or on others because that’s a waste of precious energy. Voilà for the basics in ‘real life’ this morning.

Coffee. Scrolling the news. Pulling together yet more paper et vogue la galère as far as this morning goes.


In this specific instance, empathy rules for another little bit. This allows for a further attempt at solving the housing issue. The family is the last one still in the building scheduled for destruction. Every evening, the watchman comes by and locks the entrance door. Every evening, the cops roll by and verify the door is locked. Then, the kids show up with their passkey, pull up the couch from the basement, block the stairs, turn on the music, pull out the smokes and it’s party time. So far, they haven’t bothered the family (I mean, no forced intrusion into the apartment – but the family can’t go out, nor can the family get a good night’s sleep.) Ergo, emergency phone calls on the way to the préfecture and a promise from Social Aid to look into it asap. We’ll see what happens.

On to the next. (But in the meantime, found an artifact that fits right in to the world of fiction. This is good.)


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