Go to the guy who signed you up for your gym (and who therefore probably got some commission) and ask him nicely if they could please turn the volume of the music down (make sure he understands that the request is for a permanent volume reduction, not just for that day).
You never know, it might work, and in any case if you don’t let them know that it bothers you they’ll never have any incentive to fix it.
Ask him to turn the music down?!? Good Lord, sir! I’m far too English to do anything like that 
Nah, I’m just going to grit my teeth and put up with it until payday and then buy some better headphones.
Curious to know where you live that there’s only one gym to go to.
Look, subconscious, you’re already giving me a dream in which I died, and need to get through a ridiculous puzzle or face damnation. Did you have to ALSO include the old “I had a class I haven’t gone to since week two” bit too? ::mad::
Why is everyone SO fucking slow today?
My dialysis tech, who not only hooked me up backwards (making testing today completely useless) and blamed someone else, took almost 30 minutes to take me off the machine. I told her I had to be out the door by 10, so I could be at work at 1030. She responded by moving even slower, if that was possible.
Trying to race home, I got stuck behind Gramma going 40 in a 60, and I could not get around her.
Stop by Bruegger’s to grab a quick breakfast and it’s Old Home time - hey! let’s block the entry to catch up on cousin Fred’s latest escapades! Move your ass!
Get home, get logged in… our phone system AND electronic filing system are down.
It’s going to be a long day.
Saw a young woman in her 20’s at a donut shop in the skyway with grey highlights in her hair.
Apparently that’s a thing now.
Used to be every woman was 29 years old, even into their 80’s. Now we have young women intentionally looking old. Brilliant.
Good news for someone with built-in gray highlights. Now it’ll look like a fashion statement, not like I’m just old (which is a problem when looking for a job).
Every so often the icons on my desktop flicker (primarily an indicator something is being installed or updated), or my download bandwidth will be busy for a minute or two, and I have no idea what is causing them. It bothers me that activities like that can go on without my knowledge or approval.
It’s been a thing for a few years, now. Way to catch on, gramps.
I really like my natural grays. Haven’t figured out yet whether they make me look older. I get compliments, and sometimes when it’s pulled back, I’ve had someone try to pick the glitter out of my hair. I’ve briefly considered putting streaks in it, but it’s been really nice not having to maintain any color like I did for 25 years. Plus, now it’s wavy to curly…? Used to be straight.
It’s like Major Major in “Catch-22”. You can only see him when he’s not in.
My rant: I’m sitting at a stop light on my way home tonight, cross traffic has the green light, when the guy in the left turn lane across from me decides to run his red light and make a left turn anyway. A cop sitting one car behind him does absolutely nothing.
They say there’s never a cop around when you need one, but apparently it doesn’t matter if they’re there or not. :mad:
One more reason that Win10 will not grace most of my computers. Until they are paying for the box I know best.
I get my hair cut in Johnstown, which is an hour and fifteen minute drive. I’m overdue, and I finished work early yesterday, so at noon I was driving.
It rained the entire trip there and back, making the trip less fun than usual.
When I arrived and after I’d pumped four quarters in the meter, I discovered the shop was closed. I’d have known if I’d checked Facebook, which I always do, except for yesterday.
Gray hair tends to be of a different texture than the same head of hair non-gray. In my case, I have naturally curly hair, so my grays are like little brillo pad pieces coiling out of the top of my head. I color my hair to keep those suckers under control!
Had I a lawn, I would chase you from it.
::rings doorbell::
::starts running::
Out shopping with the wife. We return to our car in the lot and one of the tires is completely flat. Well, fuck. We stopped paying for roadside assistance a while ago, and we figure that trying to pump it up enough to get us home (it’s after 6 and the tire place is closed) would be quicker and easier than jacking it up and putting on the spare. No pump in the car so we walk across the lot to CVS and grab one. That works … we get home and the tire’s still mostly inflated. Cool
Next morning I top it off with air and feel around the treads. Ah yes, something jammed in there … nail probably. Well, that’ll be around 25 bucks. Take it in. Turns out it was a nail. A five-inch framing nail that had also managed to make a deep gouge in the sidewall. Tire dead. Fuck!
HOW THE HELL DID I MANAGE TO GET A FIVE-INCH NAIL ALL THE WAY INTO MY TIRE?!
Do you happen to live in my village? No, probably not 'cause here it’s roofing nails.
It seems one of our more intelligent denizens has decided the way to slow traffic on his little side road - that happens to be the road the local school is on - is to toss a few handfuls of roofing nails unto said road. I’ve managed to avoid embedding one into my tires. A few of my friends have not been so lucky.
Nah, mid-sized college town. The only things we’ve done recently other than regular streets and freeways are off-road parking for a local historical site/hiking trailhead and the gravel parking lot of a brewery.
Damn if that doesn’t sound like the perfect place to live.
Sounds like it’s about 56% as nice as wherever Trent Reznor lives…