Only a Dick Plays with Mr. Electricity
Sep. 25th, 2007 08:45 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
xifengFour more days until Chautauqua Weekend.
Today sucked ass towards the end. I turned out Scott and Washington without much trouble, had to skip my lunch in order to get back home (had something here for a change), and no sooner did I park at the old courthouse (the new one is right across the street) than it started pissing and pouring. I grabbed my folders and my umbrellas and hightailed it in, and still managed to get soaked.
I got inside, opened my folder, and realized that the order form was not in there. Figuring that I'd picked up an empty folder by mistake (I keep them in my car, in case something comes in during the day), I said some bad words and then went back out to the car, where I discovered that the order form was not in the car. Turns out that the guy who mans the metal detectoronly really stupid terrorists would want to bomb this shitpit off the face of the earth had picked them up--somehow they'd fallen out of the folder--and was about to throw them away. By this time I was drenched up to the knee, wearing sandals, and my shirt was plastered to my back.
I was really looking forward to going home and changing into dry clothes.
It should be mentioned that I am about routine, even though I realize that some of my routines appear nonfunctional to other people (as if I really give a shit, because most of what I do is not about other people, or about how it's going to be perceived outside my own frame of reference. Solipsistic? YES). I react poorly to things I can't see coming a mile away. I've been known to rehash my schedule for the day, out loud, two or three times when I'm by myself (at least I retain the grace to not talk to myself in front of other people). Disrupt my routine, for any reason, and I become visibly agitatedand say bad words. I will not be happy until everything is put right again.
You may imagine my displeasure when I saw that the road by my house was blocked off because of utility work.
You may also imagine my trepidation, because I couldn't actually see very much of my house and couldn't determine whether a limb had come down on the roof. (If you'd like, you can also imagine my unalloyed glee when I saw that a big ol' fuckin' limb had come down in the Podunk Princess' yard, and yes I am aware that it is generally considered wrong to gloat at the misfortunes of others.)
We hadn't escaped the Curse of the Undead Zombie Tree. (There's a large old maple tree, probably older than the house, in the backyard, which has steadily been losing limbs in the summer storms over the past 9 years. We think it's rotting from the inside.) Thankfully, it missed the garage (which is a separate building from the house, and probably also predates the house) and came down on the part of the driveway where I usually park. The other half was unscathed, but the limb is HUGE and Mom and I can't drag it away by ourselves. As far as I was able to determine, the bushes in the front yard really copped it, but the house is untouched, thankfully.
The power came back on just as I was about to head into Evansville, which is as well because I really didn't need to be spending any more on books, not that I'm allowed to buy books until I'm done with the Balzac AND the stuff I bought in Salem in August. Not that I cared, given the mood I was in.
So yes. This afternoon was made of AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGH.
Today sucked ass towards the end. I turned out Scott and Washington without much trouble, had to skip my lunch in order to get back home (had something here for a change), and no sooner did I park at the old courthouse (the new one is right across the street) than it started pissing and pouring. I grabbed my folders and my umbrellas and hightailed it in, and still managed to get soaked.
I got inside, opened my folder, and realized that the order form was not in there. Figuring that I'd picked up an empty folder by mistake (I keep them in my car, in case something comes in during the day), I said some bad words and then went back out to the car, where I discovered that the order form was not in the car. Turns out that the guy who mans the metal detector
I was really looking forward to going home and changing into dry clothes.
It should be mentioned that I am about routine, even though I realize that some of my routines appear nonfunctional to other people (as if I really give a shit, because most of what I do is not about other people, or about how it's going to be perceived outside my own frame of reference. Solipsistic? YES). I react poorly to things I can't see coming a mile away. I've been known to rehash my schedule for the day, out loud, two or three times when I'm by myself (at least I retain the grace to not talk to myself in front of other people). Disrupt my routine, for any reason, and I become visibly agitated
You may imagine my displeasure when I saw that the road by my house was blocked off because of utility work.
You may also imagine my trepidation, because I couldn't actually see very much of my house and couldn't determine whether a limb had come down on the roof. (If you'd like, you can also imagine my unalloyed glee when I saw that a big ol' fuckin' limb had come down in the Podunk Princess' yard, and yes I am aware that it is generally considered wrong to gloat at the misfortunes of others.)
We hadn't escaped the Curse of the Undead Zombie Tree. (There's a large old maple tree, probably older than the house, in the backyard, which has steadily been losing limbs in the summer storms over the past 9 years. We think it's rotting from the inside.) Thankfully, it missed the garage (which is a separate building from the house, and probably also predates the house) and came down on the part of the driveway where I usually park. The other half was unscathed, but the limb is HUGE and Mom and I can't drag it away by ourselves. As far as I was able to determine, the bushes in the front yard really copped it, but the house is untouched, thankfully.
The power came back on just as I was about to head into Evansville, which is as well because I really didn't need to be spending any more on books, not that I'm allowed to buy books until I'm done with the Balzac AND the stuff I bought in Salem in August. Not that I cared, given the mood I was in.
So yes. This afternoon was made of AAAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRRRRRRRRRRGH.
