Archive for November, 2015

Cable Still Out

November 16, 2015

In short, a cable was literally cut somewhere, and we’re not sure precisely where, necessitating that a new cable be run. Unfortunately, this involves excavating under the sidewalk first.

In shorter, the quest for convenient Internet continues.

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To Be Fair

November 13, 2015

Customer service gave me no trouble whatsoever in arranging a service call for my cable outage. (Granted I didn’t really give them any room to do otherwise, but still . . . they could have given me difficulty anyway, and they didn’t.) So depending on the nature of the problem, of course, I should have convenient Internet access restored before next week.

I’ll let you know how it went on Monday.

Something Tells Me That Step Two Is Going To Be Trickier

November 12, 2015

Step One, Get the power company back out here to close the panel on the junction box they left open during their construction process. Do this for safety as well as on the off chance something about this junction box was the direct cause of my Internet cable going out.

Check.

Step Two, Convince the cable company that it is NOT a coincidence that I lost my cable during said construction.

A Quick Announcement

November 11, 2015

Due to construction, I shall be without convenient Internet access for an uncertain period of days.  As such my posts will be without much in the way of flourishes until the situation is resolved.

Especially Because This May Be The Only Time I Ever Hear That From You

November 10, 2015

Today I had an oddly poignant moment with my son.

This morning during a discussion about monsters I told him that monsters never bothered me because “I was too mean.”  At this point my son, despite our frequent clashes of will that almost always end up worse for him than for me, he looked at me in puzzlement and said, “You’re not mean.”

I think your perspective may be skewed there, son, but . . . thanks.  That meant a lot to me.

That Kid’s Gonna Go Far

November 9, 2015

On a lighter note, an old riddle was making the rounds on my Facebook over the weekend, “What belongs to you, but others use it more than you do?”  The standard answer is, of course, “your name,” but one of my nephews chimed with a somewhat tongue-in-cheek answer that hit a little too close to home for me of late:

“Your time.”

So How AM I Doing? (Part Two)

November 6, 2015

But humor based deflections aside, recently I’ve been coping with life . . . poorly at best.  The reason for this isn’t just the perpetual interruptions to my rest, it’s the perpetual interruptions to my everything . . . sleeping, eating, working, resting, exercising, thinking, meditating, and so on and so on.   And those rare times I’m not actually interrupted, the awareness of the possibility of being interrupted can become so maddening that it overshadows everything else.  I continue to do my best to cope and adapt though, because that’s the only viable option for enduring the presence of the Sword of Damocles, and I do know that things will get better . . . someday.

I don’t know how many days, months, or years it’ll take for “someday” to arrive, mind you, but things will get better.   (This is absolutely not a statement of blind faith or a joke, by the way.  My current situation, however difficult, is transitory.)

In any event, there you have it.  You asked how I was doing . . .

. . . and now you know.

So How AM I Doing? (Part One)

November 5, 2015

It’s a fair question, and to answer honestly and without whining I’d have to say . . .

I’m not sure exactly where I fall in the “not well” spectrum, but I’m somewhere between “meh” and “bad” at the moment.  I’m exaggerating for effect, of course, but I feel like I’m perilously close to Bruce Banner not returning my phone calls because he just can’t relate to my anger issues any more.

Self-Editing

November 4, 2015

More than one person out there has noted that the more stress I’m feeling, the shorter my entries here tend to become, and this isn’t just because more stress frequently equates to less time for me.  Primarily it’s because I believe in self-editing whenever possible; case in point, the entry I wrote on Monday around four in the mourning, I mean morning, my time.

It’s never going to be my favorite entry by any stretch of the imagination, but it got the job done.  It captured my feelings at that particular moment, and did so succinctly and with a minimum of whining.  The original draft though was . . . longer . . . a lot longer, in no way succinct, and positively filled to the brim with whining

I hate whining, so I cut the worst of it out and posted what I had left, which wasn’t much, but at least I recognized how whiny the original draft was, and had the wherewithal to trim and revise it into something more palatable.

That’s the essence of editing right there.

Lots Of People Talk About The Weather, But Almost Nobody Puts A Horse’s Head In Its Bed

November 3, 2015

“It sure is a nice day,” Lala said this morning.  “It just needs to be a little cooler.”

“Or what?” I asked.

She looked at me askance before asking, “What do you mean ‘or what?'”

“I mean you sound like the weather mafia when you say it like that,” I explained before affecting an outrageously bad “wise guy” accent.  “Sure is a nice day we’ve got here; needs to be a little cooler though.  Be a shame if something . . . happened to a day as nice as this just because it didn’t want to be a little more . . . cooperative.”