Electronic Blood Pressure Monitor

Burt, the Custodian Who Calls Himself Grandpa, just visited me twice in the last 15 minutes.
He came to pick up garbage. Twice. I am not complaining. Better than missing the garbage twice when it needs to be removed. When he found that I had none the second time, he said, "I like you."
I smiled.

It brings up two things for me:
1. I'm afraid of memory loss. I already have enough trouble trying to distinguish my dream recollections from actual history. Post-it notes cover the entire surface of my desk (and desktop. Thanks, Post-It Notes Lite!). I make two item lists.
2. I hope public opinion of me doesn't center on my garbage production.