Azure Jane Lunatic (Azz) 🌺 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
azurelunatic) wrote2012-06-13 12:45 am
azurelunatic) wrote2012-06-13 12:45 am
Entry tags:
barely scratching the (re)surfacing...
I've been juggling dates-of-least-inconvenience for taking Vash in for another oil change, as it's about that time. This upcoming Thursday is sacrosanct on account of Unmissable Work Commitments at way too fucking early AM, and it's best for sooner rather than later, particularly as the previously-elusive Noise is getting less elusive. (Ha. Not crazy.) I was thinking Saturday, then I was mostly unconscious. Sunday, of course, is when my apartment complex emails to let us all know that there's WHOO BOY CONSTRUCTION, in the form of resurfacing the driveway and garages. Fun for the whole family. They set aside the time that I need to have my car Out of the garage -- they seem to be confident that the better part of one day will do it.
I realize that there's no way in fuck I'm getting up at that hour without some serious help, and flex my schedule in the direction of sleeping through Monday in an attempt to reset it, and then leave for work before the 7am deadline, work until a reasonable hour, go grocery shopping after work, and then come home as they open the driveway again, entirely missing the clown-car rumpus that's going to ensue with half the apartment complex attempting to park on the already-overflowing street.
So of course I wake up at two the fuck in the morning, bright-eyed and ready to go. I attempt to chill, or at least do housework; this is only so effective. I do not in fact actually get the nap I hope for.
So having committed great sins against the Western Canon, I swoop off, and actually find myself in a position to laze about a bit before charging into work -- coming in at this hour, and leaving at the hour I see myself leaving, totally not compatible with staying within a nice (and non-overtime) 8 hour day.
Midway through the day, I get the email that says in *fact*, due to weather conditions that they totally weren't able to predict (er...) the driveway and garages would not be opening back up at 9pm, they'd open up at 5pm ... tomorrow.
Riiiiight. And I'd be scrambling for street parking. Aiiiugh. Not my kind of fun, plus an unpredictable amount of walking at the end of a long day. No thanks, actually. And then I got the email saying that my long-suffering tivo was ready to be picked up.
I calledzarhooie, of course, and explained the tivo saga -- used box, power had blown, while power was blown I was still able to route cable through it, found the dude to get it fixed, power worked, cable stopped working, forgot to bring the remote when taking it back, and the dude now thinks it's a settings problem.
"Being a lumberjack" is now standard phrasing for that sort of scenario where the equipment has quit doing what it ought to be doing in a flagrantly notable fashion. Kat and I decided that her missing remote was not being a lumberjack, because it would theoretically work if it were findable, but instead it had gone off to clown college to become a stripper.
I retrieved my tivo. Kat declared that my Devo had gone off to clown college to become a demon stripper. CLOSE ENOUGH.
I decided that really, there was no time like the present for taking the car in. I could just park it at the shop, drop off the keys even though they were closed (there is a drop thing), leave voicemail or something, and then work out the transit situation in the morning. It would cut into my Wednesday-pre-Thursday-AAAAAAIIIIGH session at work, but it would be better than having the car do something thoroughly stupid on Thursday at the wrong time.
When I arrived, there were still signs of life in the shop, the door was open, and the dude was still there. I dropped off my key and made arrangements. Hooray! Then I ducked into the grocery store for dinner components, and caught the last bus home. (Yipes, that was sort of cutting it close, but it wasn't like I was there in time for the second-to-last bus.)
I was able to survey the parking hassle with utter chill, secure in the fact that my car was not parked in all of that. Hooray me! I felt immensely clever, as well I should.
It's going to get worse before it gets better, because they are going ahead on schedule and doing the other half, so for a 10 hour window, all of the parking and driveways are going to be shut down. I really hope no one in this community actually uses a fucking wheelchair, because they'd be sooo screwed. Not that anything's accessible anyway.
Then I worked out transit schedules, did laundry, did dishes, and talked emotional plot arc with Ev.
I realize that there's no way in fuck I'm getting up at that hour without some serious help, and flex my schedule in the direction of sleeping through Monday in an attempt to reset it, and then leave for work before the 7am deadline, work until a reasonable hour, go grocery shopping after work, and then come home as they open the driveway again, entirely missing the clown-car rumpus that's going to ensue with half the apartment complex attempting to park on the already-overflowing street.
So of course I wake up at two the fuck in the morning, bright-eyed and ready to go. I attempt to chill, or at least do housework; this is only so effective. I do not in fact actually get the nap I hope for.
So having committed great sins against the Western Canon, I swoop off, and actually find myself in a position to laze about a bit before charging into work -- coming in at this hour, and leaving at the hour I see myself leaving, totally not compatible with staying within a nice (and non-overtime) 8 hour day.
Midway through the day, I get the email that says in *fact*, due to weather conditions that they totally weren't able to predict (er...) the driveway and garages would not be opening back up at 9pm, they'd open up at 5pm ... tomorrow.
Riiiiight. And I'd be scrambling for street parking. Aiiiugh. Not my kind of fun, plus an unpredictable amount of walking at the end of a long day. No thanks, actually. And then I got the email saying that my long-suffering tivo was ready to be picked up.
I called
zarhooie, of course, and explained the tivo saga -- used box, power had blown, while power was blown I was still able to route cable through it, found the dude to get it fixed, power worked, cable stopped working, forgot to bring the remote when taking it back, and the dude now thinks it's a settings problem. "Being a lumberjack" is now standard phrasing for that sort of scenario where the equipment has quit doing what it ought to be doing in a flagrantly notable fashion. Kat and I decided that her missing remote was not being a lumberjack, because it would theoretically work if it were findable, but instead it had gone off to clown college to become a stripper.
I retrieved my tivo. Kat declared that my Devo had gone off to clown college to become a demon stripper. CLOSE ENOUGH.
I decided that really, there was no time like the present for taking the car in. I could just park it at the shop, drop off the keys even though they were closed (there is a drop thing), leave voicemail or something, and then work out the transit situation in the morning. It would cut into my Wednesday-pre-Thursday-AAAAAAIIIIGH session at work, but it would be better than having the car do something thoroughly stupid on Thursday at the wrong time.
When I arrived, there were still signs of life in the shop, the door was open, and the dude was still there. I dropped off my key and made arrangements. Hooray! Then I ducked into the grocery store for dinner components, and caught the last bus home. (Yipes, that was sort of cutting it close, but it wasn't like I was there in time for the second-to-last bus.)
I was able to survey the parking hassle with utter chill, secure in the fact that my car was not parked in all of that. Hooray me! I felt immensely clever, as well I should.
It's going to get worse before it gets better, because they are going ahead on schedule and doing the other half, so for a 10 hour window, all of the parking and driveways are going to be shut down. I really hope no one in this community actually uses a fucking wheelchair, because they'd be sooo screwed. Not that anything's accessible anyway.
Then I worked out transit schedules, did laundry, did dishes, and talked emotional plot arc with Ev.