Don’t make me come up there!
Careful, the downside of beating people with your crutches is the precarious position it leaves you in during said beating.
Just fuck you, Alaska Airlines. I made my reservation online three months in advance, using air miles. Yesterday, I had to cancel it, over a month in advance of the flight, and you’re going to charge me $75? For what? No human has to do any work for this to happen, so it’s just corporate greed. I’ve had your Visa card for over ten years, and since we pretty much put everything on our card, you’ve been reaping that 3% from businesses on hundreds of thousands of dollars. But you need this $75 to make ends meet? Just fuck you.
Fine, just stand right there while I roll the desk chair closer! 
Where in the Dantean hells did that come from? It’s glorious.
What I always do is grab hold of a steady piece of furniture whilst I lay about me with my walking stick and/or a wooden spoon.
Never underestimate the power of a wooden spoon, when properly wielded. It looks like you’re just going to make some cookie dough or something, and then you can hit someone upside the head with it.
That was always Mom’s favorite tool. I guess she needed to use it for something since cooking was not something she was known for.
I’m going to call my landlord tomorrow and tell him the new fridge needs to go back. I am not looking forward to this because in the past it’s taken three phone calls and two trips out to get shit fixed (see: six weeks to get my furnance problem resolved). I just hate that I don’t have the authority to take care of these problems, and have to rely on my landlord instead. If this were a home I owned, I’d have been done with this a week ago.
My ears are ringing from the racket, and I’m fearing this will go like my other problems have gone. Landlord comes out, looks at the refrigerator, shrugs. I call again. He says he’ll have his guy come out. Guy comes out, says “It works fine” while ignoring the problem of the racket. I have to call a third time and shit gets fixed. I keep up my end of the contract, I pay my rent on time, I am a good tenant, I protect his property, and in return I have to push him to hold up his end. And this makes me angry.
We are required to rent from Enterprise by corporate edict. I don’t mind dealing with the outlet near our office: they don’t normally jerk us around as we are a significant chunck of their weekly business. I cringe, however, when I have to hire a car on a Sunday, because that means I have to get it from the airport (IAH, that is). That means I’ve got to park in an off-airport lot, take the shuttle to one of the terminals, since the parking shuttle doesn’t stop at the rental car center, even though it goes right past it, then take a rental car shuttle most of the way back to the rental center.
And for fuck’s sake, smarmy rental drone, knock it off with the relentless upsell, already. No, I don’t want a larger car than what the company reserved for me, and when I say that, don’t roll your eyes as though I’m some sort of abject loser. Next, when I decline the collision damage waiver, don’t roll your eyes again and cluck about how I’m going to be personally responsible for every tiny scratch that you just know I’m going to put in your crappy, already scratched Corolla. Look at the top of the fucking contract; it’s a corporate direct bill, you fucking idiot. Take the lack of CDW up with them. I suppose you’re going to call all the sunflower seeds littering the carpet in your supposedly freshly cleaned car a courtesy snack, and charge me for that, amiright?
I hear you about those Sunday rentals.
I carefully plan my trips to the Mother Ship so that I always travel on Monday night or Tuesday night. That way, I go to the same Avis guy I see every month, and he treats me nicely.
There’s no way that I’m going to Newark or Philly in order to pick up a car—it’s a long enough trip as it is without adding a trip to the airport.
Goddamn it.
I’m broke. No big shock. I’m getting used to living this way even as I don’t like it.
But my kitty is sick.
Yesterday she had very loose stool and was cleaning herself a lot and having some issues. About an hour ago she suddenly started hissing and howling and hiding herself. She went to the box and only a small soft piece came out, and she ran to the door howling in pain. Now she’s behind furniture in the kitchen hissing and in obvious pain.
And I’m FUCKING BROKE.
Tomorrow I have to call my mother and ask her for a favor for this one.
I still owe her from my bankruptcy last year.
Hopefully my kitty survives until then.
Damn, Chimera, if it wasn’t for bad luck, you wouldn’t have any luck at all.
Learned another thing that parents can’t hear their kids doing today - playing a very loud video game in the middle of everyone trying to socialize at an Easter family gathering.
She’s OK.
Damn. I went to bed wondering if I would find her dead in the morning.
Got up and went to the shower this morning with much trepidation, because I didn’t see her and there were no signs that she had used the box at all.
When I opened the shower, she was sitting in my room. I broke out crying in relief.
Didn’t seem to be hurting anymore, just wanted some attention. I opened the last can of Salmon&Shrimp mushy food and gave her some. Loved her up and checked her out and she didn’t seem to be in pain, but I was kinda holding my breath to see if she ever used the box or showed any signs of pain.
About a half hour ago, she went pee in the box. A lot. That was a good sign. A few moments ago I heard her in there again and she had taken a big dump. No noise, no sign of pain, appears to be ok now.
whew
Fingers crossed that it’s an easy problem to fix, Chimera.
Dear new neighbor lady:
I’m so glad that you’re fixing up the little house next door and apparently want to make it real nice and livable and then make the landlord an offer. Great. You seem like a nice person. So why in the name of all that’s holy did you chop down the flowering quince in the front yard? Why, moreover, did you leave the hackberry? WTF were you thinking?
I loved seeing that quince bloom - it was so pretty. Was. Now it’s a ragged stump (you did a shit job, by the way) and for fuck’s sake I would have at least taken the cuttings and tried to root them. It was right on the property line, and I’m pretty sure the landlord bought it - quince doesn’t just pop up around here.
Bitch. What possessed you to cut it down like that? It wasn’t in the way of anything. 
Also, instead of taking a much-needed nap yesterday Mr. Horseshoe and I had to stand around a nursing home room making small talk over and around his completely-passed-out, circling-the-drain grandmother. That was depressing, and now we’re both exhausted, and I really wish her daughters would just let her peacefully go already, instead of running themselves ragged and throwing piles of money at prolonging a miserable existence and delaying the inevitable and merciful.
Also, we’re behind enough at work as it is, and one team member is out today, AND the servers are having the same problem as Friday because IT hasn’t addressed the issue yet. I haven’t had the cojones to check my personal email yet but I’m sure there’s a rambling, semi-religious guilt trip from my mother in there. Got paid on Friday and I still don’t know how I’ll pay for everything. It’s not even 10 a.m. and today can pretty much lick my ass.
Oh, I forgot one more thing: I had a transmission flush a week or two ago. Saturday my “check engine light” comes on, and then, after my last errand on my way home, refused to shift out of first. I’m flooring it and barely getting to 20 mph, so I turn off onto the side streets and take the slow way home, terrified that I’m doing more damage but not hearing any grinding noises or anything and also not wanting to get stranded.
Mr. Horseshoe takes it out and although the light is still on, it’s shifting fine. Today, the light’s not even on. So, what do I do: take it to the mechanic and say, “Well, it’s working fine now, but still, even so, I want you to fix … something.”
When are you due for another state-mandated inspection (smog check, or whatever your state does)?
It’s April. That’s not a rant-inspirer in itself, but the fact that it’s got to be at least 80 degrees outside right now, in April, is. We shouldn’t have to haul the air conditioners up from the basement until at least June, dammit! I spent most of last night in a state of intermittent bed-roll, as even the fan in the window didn’t do enough to dissipate the humidity and I couldn’t sleep well because of it.
Damn you, Earth! It’s freaking APRIL! I shouldn’t have to deal with this in Pennsylvania until JUNE!
I’m with you on that.
I went for a run yesterday afternoon, expecting the nice pleasant 72 degree weather to continue.
Sure 'nuff, as soon as I hit my stride, the temp immediately went up to 80-degrees + steam.
It takes a few weeks to get acclimated with outdoor running in heat, so I ended up sitting by the side of the road a few miles short of my goal, waiting for the missus to come by and pick me up.