Barry Tempest’s trivia du jour: “‘Dreamt’ is the only English language word that ends in ‘mt.’” (Thank you Mr. T.)
By “hits” I’m not talking about the Carlo Rossi gallon on my dining room table. I’ve not hit on that all dis lib long day, and won’t until 6:30. It’s not that I’m disciplined. I just don’t want the impediment while I still have things to do.
About 10:30 after staying off the internet because the electrical fan repair guy was going to call, I discovered why I had not heard from him. I learned this when I picked up the hand set, just to be sure it was working and heard no dial tone. Double checked the wall connection. Still no dial tone. Tried connecting to the internet: no connection! THEN I opened the too-long- unopened phone bill. It said if my bill was not paid by today I would be sans connectionDANG!
BOOM! to the convenience store wtih phone bill and check book in hand. After five minutes with AT&T’s customer service woman who had a voice which suggested she was a native citizen of the USA and was exemplary in her courtesy and patience with “Mr. High Anxiety,” she explained the service would be reconnected within 24 hours and thanked me for using AT&T. I was home in 4 minutes, picked up the handset and heard the dial tone. WOW!
Fast call to electrical repair company. Yes they had tried to call. They even came by and pounded on my front door. I’d not heard them in the office. I couldn’t hear a grenade detonating by my front door when I’m in here with the radio and fan on. So it was another wait for the repair fellow nearest to me to call, indicating he was en route over. Btw, thanks to Mark Rusillo for recommending Carmean Electric. They are good people!
I am on the verge of . . . . . You know, that makes me wonder: why the blazes are we concerned with the future? I could not believe my ears when a talk show hostess expressed concern about the VIDEO TAPE “Osama Bin Absent” threatens to unleash on US to commemorate the WTC loss. Newscasters are typically spending maybe 50 percent of already damnably short new squirts on the half hour on the FUTURE! How many hours of wondering about (Yawn) Thompson and his teasing the world (as though it matters this early in the process, which it doesn’t) re his plunge into the Repulsican piss-a-dim-shill campaign? How many hours of gnashing of teeth over what may or may not happen day after tomorrow or next week? or next month? In the interest of following my own belief, I resolve not to tell you about the future in my life. As long as I am alive, I will post SOMETHING here daily.
Forgot to mention a very special birthday present late Wednesday afternoon. When I returned home from the chicken run I discovered a voice mail message. The substitute teacher line had called, said they were sorry they missed me and they’d go on down the list to find a sub for Thursday. I let it end there because I doubted I’d be in shape Thursday. It is TERRIFIC to know I’m still connected to them! I am THEIRS any time they call. This means no booze from Sunday through Thursday, even if I can afford it. Thank you sub line! Please call again soon.
Real Estate Tax payment time came and went today. Didn’t pay a nickel. The possibility of paying even paying HALF of what I owe was so remote, I couldn’t see it from the Mt. Palomar ob-freaking-servatory! I do know this: Hell and high water are headed this way. I can feel my ears popping.
Live long . . . . and proper.
