High and Dry

The week before Luke's birthday party, McMoose and I had a TON of work to do to (a) get the apartment presentable and (b) get all the food and supplies ready for the party. So of course, chores that didn't contribute to one of the above two goals got postponed. Chores, for example, like the laundry. Now we generate a fair bit of laundry each week, what with the baby clothes and the adult clothes and the bathroom mats that the cats often pee on and the diapers, so even under the best of circumstances, it usually results in about 4 loads per week and it can be hard to keep up with it. So last Monday, after all our guests had left, I was so looking forward to spending a good two days taking care of all the laundry for the past week, as well as the sheets and towels that the guests had used and the new clothes that Luke had gotten for his birthday. I started, as usual, with a load of diapers.

I should mention here that when we got our washer and dryer, we picked out the cheapest ones that money could buy because I was in grad school, working at a daycare, and routinely neglecting to buy groceries in favor of paying the electric bill and McMoose had JUST started working at IBM full time. And at the time, we weren't living together so we were paying rent and utilities on TWO apartments (one of which was used largely as a storage area) and McMoose had to pretty much feed himself, me, the Dog and both cats.

As it turns out, the cheapest dryer that money can buy usually isn't so great at actually drying clothes, so it usually took a good two hours to do the diapers and at least three to do everything else. So I put in the diapers. One hour later, they were still soaked. Two hours later, they were still soaked. Three hours later, they were not quite soaked, but still really, really damp. Four hours later...are you getting the idea here? Apparently, the heating element had decided that it hated its job and it no longer wished to heat things up. You can imagine my sheer panic when we figured out that this wasn't going to be a quick or easy fix because dude! We had AN ENTIRE CLOSET full of dirty clothes! Dirty clothes were TAKING OVER THE WHOLE WORLD! Pretty soon, they would BLOCK OUT THE SUN and then, human civilization WOULD BE OVER! All because I had put off the laundry for a week.

Luckily, we were able to manage for a week because (a) we used the apartment complex laundromat for one load of must-haves, (b) we re-used a lot of pants, (c) I don't even want to TALK about underwear, and (d) we hung up a load of diapers on every hang-able surface in the apartment. And bright and early this morning, our NEW DRYER got here. *Insert joyous celebration here!* People, our new dryer has lights and music and a bazillion different settings and a sensor that stops it if the clothes are dry so you don't waste energy and the thing that I'm most excited about: a CHILD LOCK. So Luke can push all the buttons he wants without messing with the settings. Is it possible to be in love with an appliance? Because I totally think I'm falling for this dryer. (I shall call him Moe.)

Technology: 391, Me: 0

Between the two of us, McMoose and I own a total of six computers. Six, for crying out loud! One is McMoose's work laptop, so needless to say, it's at work with him. One of them (his) has a problem with the power cord, I think, so it has been out of commission for as long as I can remember. Another one (mine) works great, but the monitor is mysteriously unresponsive and since it's a laptop, that poses a pretty big problem. So for all intents and purposes, it too is out of commission. Yet another one of mine recently found itself victimized by a hyperactive dog, so it no longer works. And the desktop that has been my lifeblood for the past month or so has just today decided to join its compatriots and no will no longer let me log on.

And this is why, in a household with six computers, I'm sitting hunched over on the floor like Quasimodo because the ONLY COMPUTER THAT ACTUALLY WORKS lives underneath the desk.

April Foolishness

I'm not big on the April Fool's thing because (a) I'm never together enough to plot and carry out a really good joke (b) when you habitually forget what day it is and people walk around playing pranks on you and YOU CAN NEVER RETALIATE because you're a terrible prankster, it's not so much fun. This is also why I've never been fond of the whole pinch-the-person-who's-not-wearing-green tradition on St. Patrick's day. But for the past couple of years, I really haven't been pranked because other people in grad school suffer the same issues as me and either don't remember the date or just don't care enough to put in any real effort. This year, however, the world seems to be full of pranks.

-My alarm pranked me this morning by ringing at 8:03, 8:18, 8:33, 8:48, 8:49, and 8:51. The times that I had actually set it for were 8, 8:15, 8:30, and 8:45. It's entirely possible that there's actually a problem with the alarm and that it wasn't just a diabolical plan to confuse me first thing in the morning, but then again, it's also possible that the thing is possessed by the spirit of a prankster.

-The weather people pranked me by saying it was supposed to be cold and rainy, but in reality, it was actually pretty warm and pretty dry (for the most part). So I got to walk around looking foolish in my raincoat, while everyone else (who apparently got the RIGHT forecast) was walking around in t-shirts.

-My computer at work pranked me by telling me that it had saved the changes to a document I was working on, but not actually saving them. Granted, this is the kind of thing that computer might do any day of the year, but still...

-When I get home, The Dog usually jumps around in his cage and generally acts crazy. Today, for the first time EVER, not only was he not jumping, he actually stayed asleep. Even when I went into the room and called his name. Which of course, led me to the conclusion that he was dead or dying because that's just completely abnormal behavior for him. The minute I opened the cage door, however, he got up and dashed out of the room in one quick flash, and then spent the next 15 minutes running around the apartment, crashing into the walls, and trying to eat the cats. So...I'm pretty sure he's not dying. Unless one of the cats decides to kill him, which judging by their reaction to his little rampage, they very well might.

Barbecues, Diets, and Flies

• There were four grown men barbecuing in the parking lot as I was walking to my building this morning. I emphasize the "grown men" part of that sentence because if it had been four college students, I wouldn't really have thought twice about it because...college kids...barbecuing in a parking lot at 10:30 in the morning...on a Thursday...yeah, sounds about right. But balding, paunchy, grown men usually have more sense, not to mention more productive ways of spending their time than trying to light up a grill while arguing over how best to keep their beers cold. Not THESE grown men, clearly.
• On Monday, I went to the doctor, where I was informed that I was gaining too much weight and that I should go on the South Beach Diet, which my midwife translated as "eating small, protein-filled meals every 2 hours." On Tuesday and Wednesday, I tried to follow this ridiculous advice by eating "meals" that consisted of a slice of cheese or a handful of peanuts. Today, I came to my senses and decided that as much fun as it is to live in a state of CONSTANT HUNGER, I'll be a much more pleasant person over the next 8 weeks if I eat like a normal human being, instead of a scavenging hyena.
• I sent a document to be printed about 10 minutes ago, and instead of sending out a sheet of paper, the printer sent out a fly. A living, flying fly. Which is now buzzing around the office. I still haven't gotten the document I printed, by the way.

Anyone Need A Lion Tamer?

Today has been a lesson in (technology-related) frustration so far. I woke up, got dressed, then took out my laptop while I ate my breakfast so that I could catch up on my news, blogs, etc. And I tried to get connected to the network. And tried. And tried. And TRIED. So finally, deciding it was probably a lost cause, I decided to restart the darn thing, because sometimes that works, and the INSTANT I clicked on the Restart icon, it connected to the network. And then proceeded to shut down. So I waited through the loooooooong restart process, all the while thinking that it doesn't usually take THAT long. As it turns out, it had gotten distracted in the middle of the process, so instead of actually, you know, reSTARTing, it just sat frozen on the welcome screen for a full 7 minutes. I know 7 minutes doesn't seem that long, but when you're staring at an overly cheerful, blue screen? IT'S AN ETERNITY.

So I finally got it restarted and connected to the network, only to realize that I had to leave RIGHT THAT SECOND or I'd be late for work. Went down to my car. Car wouldn't start. Actually, it wasn't so much that it wouldn't start, but that the key wouldn't turn. And I couldn't pull it back out because it was stuck in that weird, halfway position. So after a few minutes of wrestling with the ignition, threatening to sell the car to the circus, and almost snapping the key in two, I came up with the brilliant plan of putting baby oil on the key and then trying to slide it out because--I don't know if you're aware, but baby oil? It's MAGIC. Of course, once I got the key out, I still had to put it back IN and turn it, but the car must have sensed how close I was to the breaking point because it oh-so-kindly decided to start.

By this point, I already had the sense that today would probably not be the best in terms of Things Working Smoothly--a suspicion that was confirmed when I got to work and turned my computer on and it crashed three times during the start up process. And then, once I finally got it up and running, it started alerting me that it has updates and it needs to restart RIGHT NOW or else the world will end. So I restarted it. And 5 minutes later, it told me it needed to restart again. So I did. And 10 minutes later, it wanted to restart again. And I am THIS CLOSE to joining the circus myself, because SURELY, elephants and lions are easier to deal with than cars and computers.

A Mini-Celebration

I just turned in my thesis proposal, which has been my obsession, my baby, and the source of at least 70% of my stress for the past 10 months. This is a very exciting, albeit terror-inducing, moment. On the one hand, I have the knowledge that I'm done with the written part (!), but on the other hand are the dreaded facts that (a) I can't make any more changes, so if I misspelled "psychology," or "stereotype," or "the," there's nothing I can do about it and (b) in 13 days, I have to stand up in front of three (3!) tenured faculty members and explain to them why this is a worthy project. Gah!

My printer, for its part, did an admirable job of printing out the 70-page document twice (I apologize to all the trees that made the ultimate sacrifice so that I could be one step closer to having the initials "M.S." behind my name). Now that it has completed that task, however, it has decided that it no longer wishes to be associated with academia and has handed in its resignation so that it can go join a commune in Sri Lanka.

Crazy? Me? Nooooo.

If I were a dinosaur, I'd want to be the kind that has the flaps of skin tucked beside its head so that when I got frustrated, I could hiss and puff out the flaps and look all menacing-like. I came to this realization when my computer froze up for the 15th time this morning and I put my hands behind my ears, flapped them forward and snarled at the computer. My office mates probably think I've lost my mind, but it was oddly therapeutic.

Apparently, this is the kind of crazy behavior you start to exhibit when...
(a) You can't stay asleep for more than 40 minutes at a time.
(b) You're facing the possibility that you might be spending the next 5 months of your life timing "perfectly harmless, completely normal" Braxton-Hicks contractions. If they're so harmless and normal, why do I have to time them? And also, why do I have to drink 20 ounces of water each time I have one? And also, have you ever tried drinking 20 ounces of water 8-12 times a day? IT. CAN'T. BE. DONE.
(c) You call the computer people YET AGAIN and are told YET AGAIN that your computer is perfectly fine. If it's fine, then why won't it let me check my email? Or open a spreadsheet? Or type 2 consecutive words without freezing up?
(d) You get a call from your vet telling you that your dog has cancer. And then, you have to explain to 3 different people that no, that's impossible, because your last visit was a month ago and they already gave you all the test results that said he was fine, so unless they broke into your apartment in the middle of the night and ran unauthorized tests, they've got the wrong number. And after 15 minutes of telling you that "denial is a perfectly normal stage in the grief process," one of them FINALLY thinks to actually check the file and finds that in fact, they've got the wrong number. So now, not only am I annoyed by their lack of conscientiousness, I also feel terrible for the person whose dog actually does have cancer.

Surely, you understand why pretending to be a dinosaur is really not all that odd at this point in time.

A Dead Bird And Its Aftershocks

I was hit by a dead bird today. I was walking out to get lunch and I passed under a tree and something fell out and hit my shoulder and as it turned out, that "something" was a dead cardinal. A very pretty, dead cardinal. But its attractiveness doesn't change the fact that a diseased bird was within 6 inches of my face. Of course, since I tend to jump to the most far-fetched conclusions available, I immediately decided that it died of bird flu. Granted, there's a lot I don't know about bird flu. For example, what kind of birds are susceptible to it? I'm thinking cardinals are probably not the most likely carriers. And also, what's its prevalence in North Carolina? My guess would be zero. And finally, how is it transmitted? I have no clue--but I'm guessing that it ISN'T transmitted by dead birds hitting people on the shoulder. Right? So I'm fine. RIGHT?

But I'm thinking that at the very least, it's at least a bad omen for the rest of my day. I mean, it's considered bad luck to walk under a ladder or to see a black cat crossing your path, but almost being knocked out by a dead bird is perfectly okay? I don't think so. If I had to guess, I'd say that the omen is that you'll be faced with strange things for the remainder of your day, because here's what happened after the dead bird incident:

-About 5 minutes later, I got to Bruegger's and asked for beef chili, which they didn't have for the first time in 3 months. Instead, they offered me chicken chili. Thinking that they probably tasted the same, I said okay. As it turns out, chicken chili? Is WHITE. And has some strange beans in it that are definitely not kidney beans. And the chicken is cooked to the point that it kind of disintegrates into the soup, so really, it's not chili so much as it is baby food. However, by the last spoonful, it had grown on me and I might try it again next week. Maybe.

-About 40 minutes later, I asked the printer to print something for me AND IT DID! I know that doesn't seem out of the ordinary, but if you knew my printer, you'd realize just how magnificently unusual it is for the darn thing to do what you ask, when you ask, THE FIRST TIME you ask.

-About 90 minutes later, I got stuck between floors in the elevator. I've been expecting this to happen since the first time I rode in this particular elevator because judging by its shakiness and groan-iness, it's very possible that this was actually Otis' prototype of an elevator, but the fact remains that it happened TODAY, and not, say, two years ago.

So I've decided that (a) yes, having a dead bird fall on you IS an omen, but (b) it's not necessarily a BAD omen. Because after all, I liked the soup (in the end), the printer did something good (for once), and instead of dying a fiery death in the elevator, I pushed the emergency button and a maintenance guy came and fixed it (very, very quickly). And best of all? No signs of the bird flu (yet).

Resolutely Ignoring the Problem

Lately, we've been having this problem at work with things being printed out and not being claimed. Technically, this printer is only supposed to be used for work or school related things by people who belong to our lab group, and since there are only three of us, you'd think it would be fairly easy to match the material being printed with the person doing the printing. As it turns out, you'd be wrong about that.

Last Thursday, before leaving work, I took all the unclaimed papers and put them in the recycling bin. I happen to know for a fact that nobody was here on Friday. And yet, I walked in this morning to find no fewer than 32 pieces of paper with smiley faces on them. And another 4 that said, "Close this screen before opening document."

So I'm thinking that either (a) elves are coming in at night and printing out crazy things to try to get us in trouble or (b) our printer has accidentally been hooked up to a random computer in the building by mistake. I'm kind of hoping for scenario A because if it's scenario B, I'm going to have to go talk to the IT people. And really, I'd rather walk through about a mile of fire, followed by another mile of broken glass. I know that sounds like an exaggeration, but for once, I'm actually being serious. Because the IT people here? They HATE ME. With a deep and unending passion. Because the last two times I went down there, my complaints were as follow:

Time 1, about 4 months ago: my co-worker was typing something on his fancy computer with two flat screen monitors and suddenly, smoke started coming out of one of them.

Time 2, about three weeks ago: keys started falling off my laptop keyboard and then I'd accidentally put them back in the wrong spot and as a result, everything I typed was completely incomprehensible.

And now, I'm supposed to go tell them that there are random smiley faces being printed on our printer? And that no one is actually sending these TO the printer? Wouldn't that be similar to going to a neurologist and saying that you're having seizures because a ghost is trying to possess you and you're fighting back? Because to me, these two problems sound pretty similar in terms of their UTTER RIDICULOUSNESS.

Things I Did At Work Today

-Spent 10 minutes trying to figure out why my computer wouldn't turn on. Then realized it was because maintenance had vacuumed last night, which means that they had unplugged my computer so they could plug in the vacuum.

-Felt foolish about my above mentioned technological snafu.

-Read through an email that my health insurance company sent me, which informed me that Campus Health Services has an extensive array of services offered and that if I needed health care, I should consider them first. Rolled my eyes because I get this same email every time I go to an outside doctor and a claim is filed. Sorry BCBS, but sometimes, a Tylenol and a band-aid just doesn't do the job.

-Painted my co-workers fingernails. (WHY?)

-Completed about 70% of two separate crossword puzzles.

-Ran some stats. Got annoyed. Returned to the crossword puzzles.

-Finished editing my thesis proposal.

So see? It's been a VERY productive day.

Another Letter I'd Like To Write

Dear Cable and Internet Company,

I understand that you're highly concerned over the fact that you think I haven't returned the router from my old apartment. However, I wish YOU would understand that I'm highly concerned over the fact that I did, in fact, return it. Two-and-a-half months ago, to be exact. And since then, I have had no fewer than SEVEN conversations with various customer service representatives in which I have tried to explain the fact that I already returned it. And each time, the representative has been very polite and helpful and has assured me that he or she will change the records immediately to reflect the fact that I returned it. And then, two weeks later, I get YET ANOTHER letter from you about how concerned you are that I still haven't returned it.

In fact, the latest series of letters have all been in the form of an invoice and nowhere on the invoice does it mention WHAT exactly I'm being billed for. So if I didn't make it my business to know the exact amount of my regular monthly bill, I might very well be tricked into paying for equipment THAT YOU ALREADY HAVE sitting in some warehouse because I might think I'm just being billed for regular services. I applaud the nefarious plan, but would like to point out that you're not exactly endearing yourselves to me. And furthermore, the worst part of all of this is that I HAVE THE RECEIPT saying I returned the darn router. Which means that all you have to do is (a) ask me to fax you a copy or (b) agree to let me come into your office and SHOW you a copy. And since you refuse me both those options, the end result is that I have to take the time and effort every couple of weeks to try to sort this out. At this point, all I really have to say to you is that you and your collection agency had better not be messing with my credit rating over this mess.

Sincerely,
A Customer Who Is MOST DISPLEASED With Your Monopoly Over Cable Services.

A Letter I'd Like To Write

Dear Cell Phone Company,

My phone no longer rings when people call it. And sometimes, it tells who ever is calling that the number is no longer in service, which leads them to believe that I've died a fiery death. And then, they email me about how they're worried about this fiery death possibility, and then I have to email them BACK in a timely manner and reassure them that in fact, I am fully alive and quite un-burned. And quite frankly, this is not an email that I enjoy writing. Especially not multiple times. So if you could just go ahead and fix whatever glitch is causing this, that would be FANtastic. And also, the next time I call your customer service line and your only suggestion is that I get a NEW phone, even though my current phone is less than 2 years old and THEN you inform me that if I DO get a new phone, I'd have to pay the full, non-promotional price (aka: $200) for it, please don't be surprised if I reach through the phone lines and flick your ear.

Sincerely,

Your not-so-faithful-anymore customer.

What's the Road to Hell Paved With?

I left work at noon today, with a large stack of work and every intention to spend the afternoon at my computer on the couch. Except...you know where this is going, right? By the time I actually got home, I felt slightly more alive than roadkill, so instead of working, I ate lunch and went to sleep--not so much because I was tired, but rather as a way to make time pass. And when I woke up two hours later, I was feeling soooo much better. Until I stood up. So what I've realized is that I feel sick if I stand. Or sit. Or move. Or blink. In fact, the only time I DON'T feel sick is when I'm lying on my stomach on the bed with my head propped up on the foot board with blankets. And I'm not sure if you're aware, but that position right there? Not really conducive to entering numbers into a spreadsheet.

And two more hours later, when I finally had gathered up the will to sit up straight with my papers spread around me and my computer on my lap, know what I realized? That a few weeks ago, when I desperately needed immediate access to Microsoft Word, McMoose gave me a CD of software to install and that CD did not include Excel. Which means that all the good intentions and the monumental effort that it took for me to get to this position have all gone to waste. Needless to say, my current mood is most optimistically described as "Grumpy."

To Print or Not To Print?

About a week ago, I noticed that whenever I sent a document to the printer, the printer just sort of ignored it and stuck its thumb out at me. And since I'm not altogether motivated to investigate problems related to computers and printers, I decided that, hey, you know what? I don't need to print things. No...in fact, it's a GOOD thing that the printer doesn't work because...now I get to be more environmentally friendly. And I can just read things on my little laptop screen. Nooooo problem.

Until my boss informed me that she would NOT be reading my thesis proposal on a computer screen, so I'd better print it out. My first response, of course, was to moan to my office mate about the how the darn printer hated me and the tech support guy is always out of his office. My office mate very sensibly pointed out that perhaps I should just unplug the printer. And then plug it back in. So I did. And GUESS WHAT? It works now. That's all it took. So here's my question: WHAT IN THE WORLD was wrong with it in the first place, that all it took to fix it was to pull the plug? Because doesn't that seem like the end-of-the-rope, tried-everything-else, head-is-about-to-explode solution?

But in any case, it works now. Or rather, it worked for about 20 minutes yesterday. Because when I tried to print something today, it printed every other line. What the heck kind of error makes it print EVERY OTHER LINE? I just can't even BEGIN to understand this stupid machine.

Who Needs A Pause Button?

Last Friday, I left work (a little bit) early because I had three things on my to-do list that had to be done by 1 PM this Tuesday and I was pretty confident I could finish all 3 of those things up today. Plus, I was excited about the furniture coming and there was no one else in the office and I was lonely. And perhaps most importantly, I was STARVING. So this morning, I came in to find a post-it note that I had oh-so-thoughtfully left last week to remind myself of the 3 things I had to do. (Yes, I write notes for myself. I also send myself emails. And sometimes I leave myself messages on my phone. NO, THAT DOES NOT MAKE ME WEIRD.)

And about 10 minutes into the morning, my boss sent me an email giving me four EXTRA things to do by 1 PM tomorrow, which of course sent my head from "Calm" to "THIS CLOSE To Exploding" in about 15 seconds. So instead of responding to email and checking the weather for the next 5 days and *maybe* playing a quick game of sudoku, like I usually do, I jumped straight in to my work. Turns out, that was completely unnecessary as it is now 1:15 PM on MONDAY and I'm done. With all 6 things that I wanted to finish by this time tomorrow. And furthermore? I accomplished this Great and Miraculous Feat while dealing with (a) a printer that REFUSES TO PRINT, for the LOVE of GOD, (b) a computer that freezes up EVERY 17 SECONDS and (c) a wireless Internet connection that likes nothing more than to disconnect and reconnect when I'm working on something absolutely vital.

So...I'm thinking that the most feasible explanation for all of this is that somehow, I've found a glitch in the time-space continuum and as a direct result, time slowed down by about 3985% this morning, allowing me ample time to get through my to-do list. And I'm also thinking that I'm leaving (a little bit) early again today.

Why I Prefer Email...

I've had several encounters with automated phone systems lately and I gotta tell ya--they've been fun. Of course, what I mean by "fun" is "so completely ridiculous that you have to wonder what's going on with the world." The first system was to activate a debit card and it was....interesting. I'm thinking that whoever came up with it was probably highly sadistic because here's how that *conversation* went:

Automated system: If you want to activate your Visa check card, please press 1 now.

Me: *presses 1*

Automated system: If you want to activate your Visa check card, please press 2, then pound now.

Me: *presses 2, #*

Automated system: If you want to activate your Visa check card, please press 1, then pound, then 1 now.

.......see? Sadistic. My second experience was this morning, when I called a doctor's office to make an appointment. Remember back in the day, when you'd call the doctor and the annoyed receptionist would pick up? I miss that annoyed receptionist. A lot. Because here's the alternative:

Automated system: Welcome to the so-and-so medical center. If you want to make an appointment, please press 1.

Me: *Presses 1*

Automated system: If you want to make an appointment for a routine physical, please press 1. If you want to make an appointment for a prescription refill, please press 1. If you want to make an appointment for our such-and-such clinic, please press 1. If you want to make an appointment because you are bleeding or have lost consciousness, please press 1.

And at this point, I hung up the phone because DID YOU HEAR THAT LAST OPTION? How am I going to be making a phone call if I have LOST CONSCIOUSNESS? Now maybe what they mean is "If you have lost AND REGAINED consciousness recently, please press 1." But if that were the case, don't you think you'd be dialing 911 instead? And also, notice anything strange about those options? Like maybe the fact that you're supposed to press 1 for ALL of those things? Which means that ridiculous list of options is COMPLETELY superfluous and the only reason to include it is to waste the patient's time? The patient who, by the way, might be bleeding and unconscious?

Extra! Extra! Read All About It!

The newest sales tool for the Raleigh newspaper? College campuses. I was walking merrily along to my office, thinking about the fact that it was Friday and that a three-day weekend was coming up and that we're going to a football game this weekend, where I will get to see friends I haven't seen in years, when I was summoned over to a little newspaper kiosk by a very disinterested looking man. Normally when someone on campus sets up a kiosk, I avoid it like the plague because for the most part, they either want me to buy a product or buy an idea and really, if I wanted a product? I'd go to a store. And if I wanted an idea? I'd go to the library.

But this time, I was sucked in by one, magical sentence: "Do you want a FREE newspaper?" Yes, yes I do. Free things are my friends. And when the free thing is a newspaper, it becomes even more my friend because newspapers are quite possibly the most fun inventions EVER. Watching the news requires for me to be able to tolerate the newscasters' atrocious grammar (which I just can't do) and reading the news online is just overwhelming. There's too damn much of it and by the time I finish a section, all the headlines have been updated again. Newspapers, on the other hand, do not require listening to people who say "good" instead of "well" and there's a finite amount of information and plus, it's really, really fun to fold.

So of COURSE, I took the free newspaper. And carried it happily across campus, thinking the entire time about how much fun it would be to get a paper EVERY DAY. So when I was walking back to the parking deck, I warily approached the man again, certain that it would cost at least about $20 per month. Imagine my surprise when he informed me that it would be $30 FOR THE ENTIRE SEMESTER. That's three-and-a-half MONTHS worth of feeling like I know at least a tiny bit about what's going on in the world. And moreover? It's three-and-a-half months worth of Sunday coupons. My scissors and I anxiously await.

Putting the Obnoxious in "Obnoxious Computer"

I have restarted my office computer a grand total of 13 times in the past 3 hours and 34 minutes. That's an average of 3.71 times per hour. And since it takes about 6 minutes every time I restart it, that means I've spent 78 minutes restarting my computer. That means I've spent 36% of my workday TURNING MY COMPUTER ON AND OFF. It's a good thing I work in a window-less hole because otherwise? This computer would've taken a 7-storey fall about two hours ago.

So you might be wondering just WHY I'm compulsively restarting my computer. Well. Apparently back when it was a baby computer at the Dell warehouse, the bogeyman told it that excel files were devil spawn, so it has a lasting phobia of them. And today? I'm trying to cut and paste data from one file to another, which means that I have TWO excel files open. TWO! And to my computer, that signifies the end of the world.

So when I first started having this problem at the beginning of July, I went and talked to the tech support people, who informed me that it barely even qualified as a problem and all I had to do was just to restart the computer. And ever since then, every time I've talked to them about any other problem that come up, I've re-introduced this particular issue and every time, they say "Oh, it's just old. Just restart it." So I'm restarting the computer. EVERY ELEVEN AND A HALF MINUTES.

Who You Gonna Call?

About a year ago, we got a new Vonage phone because my previous internet phone company went out of business rather suddenly. And the phone works great. In fact, the only problem we've ever had with it had nothing to do with the service, but rather with the fact that the woman who had our number before us was Very Annoying. And also, very much in debt. As a result of which her debt collectors called us night and day in an attempt to reach her. The way that I dealt with it was to ignore the calls, delete the messages and go on with my day. The way that McMoose dealt with it was to pick up the phone, return the messages, and explain the situation. As it turned out, his way was slightly better in the long run because he was able to actually end the problem instead of just pretending it didn't exist. Imagine that.

So at the time that we had 14 messages from debt collectors on our phone every day, I was sure that it would be the MOST annoying phone problem EVER. I was wrong. Because ever since we moved to this place, we've been getting 5 or 6 phone calls each day from NO ONE. And this? This is far worse than the calls from the debt collectors because at least those were real people and could be reasoned with. This is just nothing-ness. It's not a person. It's not a machine. It's just dead air. And each time, the caller ID says "Receivable VESPR." Um...what?

And I can't even ignore the calls because every time I try, this little voice in the back of my head taunts me by saying what if it's an actual phone call? If this doesn't stop soon, I'm going to strangle that damn voice.

Firestarters

Last night, for the first time since we moved, we went grocery shopping. Which means that for the past two weeks, we've had no food in the house. So at some point last week, when I wanted to fry some chip-like things and discovered that we had no oil, I decided to improvise by baking them instead. I mean, it's healthier, it's less guilt-inducing--I had nothing to lose. Or so I thought. As it turned good, some cookie batter had dripped into the oven during my baking frenzy of the day before and as a result, we had a fire in the oven. A small fire. But a fire nonetheless. And I walked around for a week feeling very foolish because seriously. Who over the age of 8 starts a fire in the oven?

But today, for about 10 minutes, I stopped feeling so bad about myself. Because today? My office mate nearly started a fire in the microwave. Apparently the container that her lunch was sitting in wasn't so much microwave safe and as a result, about 20 seconds after she turned the microwave on, a sickeningly sweet smell began wafting into the office. By the time she got to it and turned it off, the container looked like something that belongs in the Museum of Modern art and the crab cake? Let's just say it looked...well done. Very well done. So I walked around feeling mightily cocky--until I remembered the time a few years ago when I started a fire in my microwave by burning a bag of popcorn. A fire that was so bad that the interior of the microwave was turned permanently brown.

So now, my office smells like burned plastic AND I feel foolish again.