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St.Patrick--patron saint of crappy days?
March 17, 2009
I felt like crap warmed over all day yesterday--achy, foggy, and afflicted with gut issues. I looked at myself in the mirror at the end of the day, and noticed I had big black bags under my eyes. I really don't know what that was about. Feel better today.
Despite the above, I came home from work and made a cherry crumble pie for the food day at work (Niece was selling pie kits for a fundraiser recently; came in handy, I guess). Then, since the oven was hot, I threw in a frozen pizza and called it dinner.
Then I sat down and watched "The Last of Sheila" twice. One straight through, and once with the commentary. The commentary was partly interesting--I say partly interesting, because it was one of those where they do it in 2 parts--Dyan Cannon & Richard Benjamin together, which was really rather fun, and Raquel Welch all by herself, which was boring and annoying. Considering that Joan Hackett, James Coburn, James Mason, and co-writer Tony Perkins were all gone, those three were all they could get, I guess. Apparently they had done it back in 2003 when the movie had its 30th anniversary, though. Some of the things the commentary was kind of dated.
And speaking of dated...there were a few things in the movie itself that cracked me up:
1. The deep, dark, shameful secret for one (ONE) of the characters was...he was a homosexual!
2. When they agent character and the director character were discussing a film project, they were thinking big budget. Like really big budget. Like five million dollars!
3. When the alcoholic character was being discussed, one character was explaining how very drastic the alcoholism was. Why, she was even in A.A for a while!
Oh, well, things change in nearly four decades, I guess.
As for today, the only thing that went in my favor were the glorious weather and the whole feeling physically better thing:
Traffic was a brute this morning; first off, there was a train crossing 75th at a time of day when there should never, ever be a train. Plus--apparently it was "Drive Like a Crazy Mo-Fo Day" on the tollway. I swear that every two minutes, like clockwork, somebody pulled a stupid move out there.
Work provided all the usual hellish moments that come with an office food day--strong smells, everybody milling around, the sounds of mastication, etc. Plus it was a day made up entirely of unreasonable deadlines and endless meetings.(Of course. Because the best way for me to met a deadline is to spend my day trapped in meetings.)
Fortunately, I had Spouse to call me up and leave crabby, venting voicemails on my phone, because the TV geek told him that he would have to wait another week and a half to get his TV fixed. I understand that he's pissed; I am, too. The notion that it takes 8 days to get a part from California in this day and age is ridiculous. (How do they send it? Over the mountains by pack mule?)
But I honestly don't know what I'm supposed to do about it when I'm at work.
And here's a couple more gems, of internet-related variety. They tightened up the Net Nanny at work and blocked a number of my regular sites. And I don't have a clue WHAT the fuck Yahoo is doing to my yahoo mail page, but it's a freaking mess.
So you can imagine I really was desperate to come home and enjoy a scrap of piece and quite. Well, you�ll have to imagine it--because when I got home, Spouse was here. Damn it, I never catch a break. He�d stayed home because it turns out he got into a major kerfuffle with Best Buy over the TV, and get this--the district manager made a house call. So by the time he�d dealt with two service reps, the management type, and the deck contractor, he never did get any sleep, and ended up calling in.
BB is going to put a rush on the part order, but we will still be watching the itty-bitty set for the next few days, anyway. So my bottom line is this--although the customer service seems to be very caring, they do not seem to be able to actually DO anything about the situation. I did not get the service I paid for when I bought the black-tie warranty. What I was sold was a plan that ensured we would not be without a TV--and that is not what I got. So they can send all the managerial apologists they want to my front door, but I am NOT a satisfied customer.
At least the guy Spouse called about building a deck onto the pool actually showed up. We usually have to try multiple times before we even get a tradesman out to quote the job. Shows how tough things are right now; they're snapping up jobs that they would have dismissed as small potatoes a couple of years ago. Anyway, he wrote up a quote and dropped it off. It�s about four hundred dollars more than we wanted to spend.
But we�re going to go ahead with it. The guy seems very professional, his insurance and references check out, and he even knocked it down by a c-note to meet us part way. If I have to scrimp a little to afford it, I�m willing.
Reading: "The Reluctant Journey of David Connors", by Don Locke. Meh. The cover blurb sounded interesting. Guy finds a mysterious carpetbag that can conjure up just the item a person needs when they need it.But then it went and got all Jesus-y on me. Yawn.
Surfing: The Glen Mullaly Super-Terrific Licensed Television and Motion Picture Shirts & T-Shirts of the 1970s Razzle Dazzle Retrospective Spectacular Pt.1!.
Listening: The Pretenders, Beck, Pearl Jam--and Luka Bloom, since it's St. Paddy's Day.
At Random: click here
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