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Thursday, Aug. 14, 2003 / 6:55 p.m. ~Total Loss Of Control~ Life is feeling fairly eventful, or at least filled with noteworthy occurrences. Perhaps I should start at the present, then backtrack. I didn't get online on my second break at work, so I had no idea about the big Blackout 2003 until I sat on the futon sofa with my Quarter Pounder With Cheese and Small Fries, which I sat in very hot and congested traffic to acquire, and watched Dan Rather open the Special "Blackout 2003" edition of the CBS Evening News. Wow. I'm SOOOOOOO glad I'm not there. It's fucking hot here, Live WeatherBug says it's 90, and even with the delightful shift, the high pressure, the sky that's blue, not white and chunky hazy, the sun is strong in its presence, hot, good actually, like it should be, but suddenly it's August again. Imagine being without a/c, even my so-so a/c. No. No way, I'd die. And as I logged on just now, to my home PC, I said a little "Neener, neener, neener", which may invite bad instant Karma, but I've had a really intense day, after a really intense week (work stuff really) and I needed to feel good at someone else's expense, especially millions and millions and millions of people who are trying to make dinner in the near sunset darkening dark. Good god, what if this lasts all night? And when did it start? It's a compelling idea to possibly sit in front of the TV, tuned not just to some Special Edition of Dan, but maybe an all news channel, just like 9/11, just like Columbine, just like OKC, just like tragedy, but this is lighter, aside from medical emergencies and the elderly suffering in the heat, this is not so tragic, this is memorable and could be... fun? Yesterday. I came home after work, saw the neighbor's car, went to her door, knocked. Heard voices, no answer, rang. Waited, she answered. Looked at me, no "Hey, how YOU doin'?", just looked, "Er, there was a police officer here this morning...", says I, "...and he was looking for you...", "That was you", she says, snippily, snidely, rudely, crudely, unpleasantly and wholly unappreciatively. Yeah, fucker, I was worried, you caused me worry, you caused me to go to work and worry my coworkers with it, because I was worried. "Stupid ex husband", she mutters. I say, "Everything's okay? You're okay? It's okay? Everything is alright?" about a million different ways, thinking she sure looks okay. Must BE okay. And she seems irritated, no doubt at him, for calling for the police in the first place, and at me for talking to the police, and maybe at the police for talking to me. Who the hell knows, but I wanted her to say, "I'm sorry the cop worried you, I'm fine, we're fine, it's just my stupid ex husband, he freaks out if I don't call him, and we went out of town, and I'm sorry, really". But no. I told her I hardly ever see her anyway, and I told the cop I hadn't seen her, but I hardly ever see her. Blah, blah. Fuck her. She's the same one who woke me up one morning, around 6:30, to ask me if my electricity was out too. Wha?!?!?!?!?! I was asleep. "You were asleep?", she asks. "Uh yeah". "Is your power out?" "Uh, I don't know, let me check". Idiot. And I expected her to apologize later for that too. Woman has no concept of other people on the planet. (Pause to ruffle Norm's little head - she has a little pin head, little Norm, aw...) (Another pause to drink cold water previously refrigerated, from Pur Water Filtration System - nice, no flavor, just wet and cold, no odor, just like water should be, perfect) (Yet another, to scoop some poop from the litter box - fascinating, yes?) Then, last night. "Big Brother 4" ended with a non-ending, a "Head of Household" competition involving six people standing in a cage, in a 'who will leave the cage first?' sort of situation, the last one standing winning. The show ended, but the competition had just begun. Hmmm... what to do? Get online, order the 7 day free trial of the Real Player Live Feed and watch it live, online, and chat with other freaky BB addicts at the same time. Um, until 1:30 a.m.!! The thought was, someone has to give in, let just one person leave that damn cage, and I'll go to bed. No one did. 3 1/2 hours in. I read online today that it took over 4 hours. Good thing I went to bed. Consequently, today. Very tired, coffee wired, doing my job, my Supervisor, back from the Mystery Hiatus, working against me, not knowing basic things, marking incoming mail in tomorrow's column, after I JUST showed her how NOT to do it, yesterday, "But it has a date on it", "H., that's TOMORROW's date, today is the FOURTEENTH". Only because she is interfering in my job, she is trying to do what I do, and it's annoying as fuck. Then, oh god, the Computer Dude, yes, the one who got this very PC started when it would not, comes by and starts fucking around on my computer. Wha?!?!?!?!?! Yeah. Starts bitching about my funky icons, why do I have a SUN as the "My Computer" icon?, and wah, wah, waaaaah, and "Y'all shouldn't have all this stuff on there, this is too user interactive", or some such shit, and I panic, thinking I'm going to get in trouble, and start deleting my icon files, all the crap I found on the shared server months, years ago. And what about my Webshots? And, and, and. He says he's taking my PC, and he leaves. I'm freaking out, he comes back, he won't tell me what he's doing, he's looking at all my personal files, and I think he's kidding, and he laughs, and I say, "I don't know when you're kidding or not, I can't tell, your sense of humor is so dry", and etc. And I relax. Hah!! He comes back, tells me to take off whatever stickers I want, he's taking the PC, and I am aghast, agog even, and he says, "I told you earlier!", and I say, because I thought we'd established this earlier, "I thought you were kidding!", and suddenly I have about five minutes before lunch to clear up my personal files, transfer to floppy disk what I want, and make it all ready to go, my computer, okay, not MINE, but the one I've used since it came in all new about four years ago. Or so. I'd readied for something similar, thinking I'd quit, walk out, many, many times, trying not to have anything personal at all on there, but I had some MS Paint artwork I'd done, good stuff really, and some .jpgs and some general .bmps and I had to delete it all, didn't come with a box of disks for the occasion. Fuck. I deleted it all before I left for lunch. Transferred my 'personal' folder, which was all work-related Word .docs, which it turns out he transferred for me already, I found out later!!! Filled up a disk with shit I didn't need, and could've saved some images. Yeah, fuck. But I didn't know where the PC would end up, still don't, so I wanted nothing of mine there. And later I realized I may have forgotten to empty the Recycle Bin the last time. Grrr... And, this is funny, I ran out to my car, to head home for chicken salad on whole wheat, and I left the stupid disk in the PC! Ran back in, he handed it to me, told me I couldn't use it in the new computer. **Sigh** Does he mean because it's not allowed? What does he mean? No fun icons, no fun anything, no more Interweb, not for the last couple years, nothing, nothing, nothing. I hate my job. But, I returned to work, to a Pentium III, a step up from the previous II, and Windows 2000, with which I'm not familiar at all, but it may look good to add to the resume once I am familiar. Yes, Windows Proficient, '95, '98, NT, '00. Whee. Who cares? Anyone want to hire me? How does one explore one's hard drive in '00?? I don't see "Windows Explorer" anywhere. Hmmmm... He left Solitaire, Pinball, Freecell and Minesweeper on there too. Stupidhead. I had to try to recreate all my custom colors, my fonts, etc. And all my Webshots images are gone. I think I may have lost a pic of Gladys too. But that's my fault, I never should've taken anything in there. Hopefully I have it on another disk. That was a big shock today. Apparently, here's the story. Our idiot Manager (M), told the Computer Dude we need new PCs, that several of us were having 'problems', me included. Wha?!?!?!?!? Again. Wha?!?!?!? He just installed extra memory, I was fine. Q is suffering with hers, it's slow as molasses, even with 128 K RAM. Why was I first? And why no warning? She says he didn't know when he could get by to switch them out. So she DIDN'T BOTHER TO TELL US! Again, I shouldn't have had anything personal on there to lose. **Sigh** again. And then, right after lunch, right?, I get back, new PC, can't even log on, have to learn my new log on password, trying to find my programs, get my FAX coversheet in order, etc., etc., and the Quality woman, the one who's been auditing us, timing us, yes, with STOPWATCH, comes by to sit in my cubicle and watch me type and listen to me answer the phone, and time everything I do. OMIGOD. It was hell, and I stank from my journey home and back, and I apologized, and I was distracted, and wanted to multi task, like I do, but had to do it in order, and so she could time me, and it was hell, did I say?, hell! And my PC has a sound card, so it was making this annoying Windows default sound with every hit of the 'tab' key, and I just wanted to fix all my settings and my screen colors (I can't tolerate fluorescent lights AND white on my monitor)... grrrrrrrrrr. And Brent gets in touch, after I email him an "Are you alive?" email missive. Oh, sure, alive, well, busy, hopping, happening, brother, but can't be bothered to keep in touch. Return phone calls, make good on promises for computers to sell to friends, i.e. me, for Jane. Harrumph. People. I'm so glad to be home, with the girls. And again, at least I have electricity, and water, and I have junk food in my belly, it could be worse, as the lady on the street in NYC said, it could be worse. (One of the ways the Management at my job think they'll maintain power is by not apprising the peons of the situation, any situation) (Ah, one more thing, I got my most recent CD in the mail, an EW recommended CD (2 really) I HAD to buy immediately, "Post Punk, Vol 1", from Rough Trade Shops - Yes, I saw "Gang of Four" live, back in '81, I believe - oh, this is gonna be good!) Cost of the War in Iraq
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