Just called Duke Energy, and it looks like we’ll have power back on tonight! AWESOME! Cthulhu bless them.
Between the post this morning, and calling Duke Energy, today was really rough, and I ended up leaving work early. (And feeling guilty about that, but I just couldn’t hack it mentally.) Did go to therapy this afternoon though, and talked about the shit that’s bothering me and how I know cognitively/rationally that everything’s going to be fine, but I still freak out and catastrophize, so we talked about ways to deal with that and defuse the anxiety before it’s out of control. Feeling much more hopeful after that, and also after Duke Energy being the bomb. Seriously: 6pm on a Friday, and you’re going to send someone out to turn on our power? Love you!
Also, the lady I spoke with at Verizon was awesome – I tried to order a landline online, and that order got fucked up, but she fixed it all and was super duper nice. And then Ana Mitchell – I got to call her about our storage space at Ironclad, and how much notice she needs since we’re about to clear our unit out. She’s always a sweetheart, though, so that wasn’t a surprise, but it was nice.
Today has been kind of a rollercoaster, but it’s pretty good now. But I better stop blogging and go help Greg pack.
Y’all, clonopin is awesome. I slept extremely well, and I feel fucking great. I’m not anxious about anything – and when I think about the shit that was upsetting me last night, to see if it’s still upsetting me, my response is much more hopeful and positive and “we can totally do this!”
Hell yes.
I mean, obviously, it would be preferable for me to be in this mindspace without the aid of drugs, but that wasn’t possible last night. I think once we’re done moving, I’ll be able to hack it without the clonopin, but last night was a doozy, and thank god I still had some. And bless my doctor for her foresight.
Today, I am going to kick all kinds of ass at work (by which I don’t really mean kicking people ass, I mean placing orders like a speed demon, and kicking fund ass, spending them out and shit, that being my job), then I’m going to come home and pack some shit up. And tomorrow we get a Uhaul and we’re moving! Yeehaw.
PS – While I was eating dinner tonight, I watched the most recent Lost. Fucking bullshit. Bullshit! I am so mad that they forced the whole Sawyer/Juliette thing to happen, when I felt like they could have worked just as well as friends, but no, they had to make them romantically involved. And then, surprisingly, I was okay with that, and I thought it was touching how Sawyer was like, “Yeah, you can get over someone in three years,” meaning Kate, and then his reaction when he saw Kate back on the island?! Bullshit, dude. Lame. You just said “I love you, too,” to Juliette the night before, and crawled out of bed with her moments before. Do not be setting me up for this bullshit, bullshit, bullshit love quadrangle. Do not want! There’s so much more interesting stuff to explore in the show without dragging this shit in. Come on. Leave them alone already. Just make a decision already, hook up some bitches and then quit fucking with it. UGH. I don’t really care who, for fuck’s sake. You could hook up Kate and Juliette, and Jack and Sawyer, and that would be fine with me, but just leave it alone. Stop with the meddling, and the whiny emo relationship angst. UGH.
Also, this stupid goddamn love quadrangle had better not steal time from the characters I actually care about seeing: Hurley, Locke, Jin, Daniel. And where the fuck are Rose and Bernard? A relationship I can actually get behind, that y’all are willing to leave alone since it’s not broken and doesn’t need fixing, and they’re nowhere to be seen. Fuck.
Dear writers,
More spooky island stuff like four-toed statues, and Egyptian temples, and Richard Alpert. And more Hurley, and Jin, and Daniel, and Locke, and even Ben because he’s deliciously evil/morally grey/hard to pin down. Less (and I would personally prefer “nil”) of this stupid love quadrangle. It is a quagmire of boring.
I know I’m your only truly important demographic, so I’m sure you’ll pay rapt attention to this request.
Love,
Kathy
So, a tree fell down, and took out the service line that connects our house to the power lines at the street. The service line pulled the meter base and its riser away from our house, so Duke Energy couldn’t turn our power back on until an electrician made the necessary repairs. I was initially told that if the electrician just made the repairs but didn’t do any re-wiring, we wouldn’t need to get the work inspected in order for Duke to turn our power back on. The electrician came out tonight (pretty late, actually, which was very nice of him), and he said this sort of thing almost always needed an inspection, he thought. So I called Duke to clear it up – and I’m pretty stressed out. It’s getting close to the end of the book year and the end of the fiscal year, so it’s crunch time at work, and I’m stressed. Normally it’s okay, and I just slog through to the end of the fiscal year, and then I’m not stressed. But I’m also anxious about the move, and anxious about getting the power sorted out at the house so we have power when we move back in (that would be Saturday), and anxious about getting a dog and how the cats will react, and anxious about packing shit up in time, and I’m a mess, basically. A big ball of anxiety, just waiting for something to catastrophize. And I got no sleep last night, so I’m feeling kind of cracked out. Not a good combo, is what I’m saying.
So I call Duke’s customer service line, and the guy I get…Well, he was basically a dick. I mean, I get it, you’re having to work customer service in the late to wee hours so Duke can offer 24-hour customer service, and you’re probably sick of dealing with people, and they’re all probably in similar situations, without power and freaking out. I get that you’d be irritated. But dude…you have power. Probably most of the people calling this line are in worse situations than we are – we’re only moving into the house Saturday, and if we can get power back on by then, gravy. If not, we move our shit into the house, and then sleep on the floor in the warm apartment until the power comes back on. It won’t be totally awesome, but it’s workable, and it’s better than having to make do in a cold ass house with no power. But dude has no idea, when he fields a call, what situation that person is in, and how freaked out they are, and he was just totally rude, and cutting me off, and saying exactly the wrong thing (in terms of what I needed to hear at the time to *not* freak out). I just hope he’s nicer when someone really desperate calls. Anyway, he’s just being very short and rude with me, and then he’s all, “You’re going to have to get an inspection regardless.” And I’m trying to stay calm – shit, I WAS staying calm – and ask him what exactly that means, since we’ve never been in this position before: does Duke Energy do the inspection, does the city do the inspection, how does this work? What do I have to do, basically, to get the power turned back on? Lay it out for me, please, since all I’ve been told so far is to get an electrician to make some repairs, and Duke would turn the power on, but apparently that’s not how it really works. And he got snippy and was like, “You HAVE to get it inspected, and that’s going to take a while,” and then cut me off and transferred me to their repairs department so they could answer my silly ass questions about how to arrange for an inspection. I mean, jesus christ, dude. Customer service skills, work on them! You do not has. And now I’m freaking out, like, it’s going to take days to set up a city inspection, and how long are we going to be without power, and we’re trying to move, get set up, adopt a dog, turn on the ADT. I have control issues, I totally do. I need to know what the plan is, and when shit’s going to happen, and telling me “You HAVE to get it inspected, and that’s going to take a while,” and then immediately putting me on hold with irritatingly loud muzak? Boo, dude. Not helping me not be a bitch, and I’m trying, I really am.
The lady in the repairs department was as nice as could be, and I think this is all going to work out well – I just wish I could have learned that BEFORE I had a mini-meltdown. Or maybe not so mini, since I ended up taking a full dose of clonopin to chill out. The gist is, we only have to get the city to inspect it if there’s re-wiring or the meter base is relocated. So, according to her we don’t need an inspection, since none of those things happened.
But anyway, so jerk dude puts me on hold while he transfers me to the repair department, and I start crying hysterically. And this is the point of this whole story, and I wish I could have filmed it: while I’m crying hysterically because I’m overwrought and just can’t deal with even the tiniest of shit, so I’m crying hysterically on hold listening to saxophone muzak when I realize what I’m listening to is “Making Whoopee.”
Seriously.
I mean, even when I’m overwrought and freaking out and crying hysterically, I can appreciate how hilarious that is: crying hysterically to “Making Whoopee.”
Anyway, the electrician did us a SOLID, so he’s going in my phonebook in case we ever need an electrician again, and I will recommend him right here, too, for anyone who needs an electrician in the Triangle area: A. C. Electrical. Dudes came out on a night (if I understood correctly) they don’t usually work – juggled kids with his wife so he could come out, and are working in the dark, because they take it pretty seriously when their clients are out of power, and they want to fix that outage asap. Dudes are doing us a fucking solid by coming out on a Thursday night, outside of business hours, and called Greg to let him know they were running late, and then when traffic made them run even later, they offered us a discount. The bill was so utterly reasonable, and Greg was so grateful to them (and I agree with him) that he added a bit extra on top of what they billed. I need to write them a motherfucking thank-you letter, or send cookies or some shit. They helped save my sanity tonight, for reals. (Greg and the clonopin helped alot, too, but it was a huge relief to know the repairs would be done tonight. Even if Duke can’t get the power back on tomorrow, I feel much less freaked out about it.) And as far as I’m concerned, we are totally A C Electrical’s clients for life.
So, yeah, now I’m on the clonopin. I’m not totally relaxed – I’m still a little concerned about stuff that was making me anxious, it’s just really hard to focus on those things long enough to worry about them, so it’s just…I don’t know, hard to describe. I would say I’m more relaxed, pretty relaxed, but not totally relaxed. I know the shit that was stirring me up is still more or less a concern, I just can’t seem to focus on it long enough to worry alot. Goddess bless clonopin. Anyway, I did a little bit of packing before losing my shit. Greg thinks we can get the rest of what absolutely has to be packed/cleared off done tomorrow night, and then Saturday we get the Uhaul and start moving. I finished watching The Mikado – I got the basic idea, and it was amusing. But I guess I hadn’t realized it was an operetta and not a musical – some of those songs, man, I couldn’t fucking understand the words. (It was the D’Oyley Company version.) Still enjoyed it, though. And now the clonopin is telling me it’s bedtime. I think between the clonopin and not sleeping last night, I should be able to sleep pretty well tonight, which will help me less neurotic tomorrow. But I’m packing my Rescue Remedy just in case. And a week from now, I will probably be awesome.
Later taters.
I thought I’d be all smooth and do a first-ever video blog because 1-you’d get to see what I sound like normally (ie, when I’m not fucked up on Ambien), and 2-it’d be more interesting than some more fucking text. I forgot I didn’t have the camera. Oh well. Probably better anyway, considering I’m all blotchy-faced from stress – and I have a fucking cold sore starting up. Are you fucking kidding me? And my stupidass eczema. Haaaate. AND I can’t sleep. I made the mistake of only taking an Atarax last night – I figured the antihistamine would help my eczema chill the fuck out. Apparently I need to take either the Ambien or the clonopin, because I woke up seriously every half hour or hour. BOO. I can’t wait til we’re done moving and shit can chill out.
I think Ayn Rand is a douchebag, and I think John Galt is a douchebag, and I think anyone who calls themselves an “objectivist” is a douchebag asshole who never learned 1-how to share their toys, nor 2-why sharing is good for all of us, nor probably 3-how the real world actually works. (And there is absolutely nothing you can say to change my mind, in case you were thinking of trying. Not that douchebags are my regular readers. I know y’all are cool. But for any objectivists who just happened to stumble over this post: 1-don’t even waste your time trying. 2-I’m going to delete any comments I don’t agree with anyway, this blog ain’t a democracy.) So *of course* I love this Pandagon post about a Randian lawyer who’s either extremely stupid and doesn’t understand tax law or (more likely) is deliberately lie-telling: Your Idiot Hero of Your Idiot Book for Idiot People.
And apparently (according to the comments) there’s this game called BioShock, that 1-is scary, and 2-produced this quote: “Everyone came to Rapture expecting to be captains of industry, but someone has to scrub the toilets.” (Hell yes!) So now I really need to play BioShock.
I almost can’t believe I’m posting this, but I am. Here I am last night, fucked up on Ambien. (Please note, it was prescribed for me, so this is totally legal. I think I was pretty much out at this point, but not actually sleeping yet.) This is so embarrassing. And that is not my normal voice, by ANY stretch. It started because I was telling Greg that the ceiling looked funny, or was moving or something, and he grabbed the camera (like I made him promise to) and asked me to describe it. Retardation ensues.
Shit. All I can really say for myself is, Ambien is a hell of a drug! But it gets me to sleep, and I’ve been feeling really rested lately, so…I’ll take the ridiculous Ambien-talk.
In other news, a tree fell the other day when it snowed, and took out our service line at the house, which in turn pulled down the riser and fucked up our power meter. So the house has no power, and we have to get an electrician out there Thursday to repair it. Then we have to get Duke Energy back out to possibly inspect the electrician’s work, and definitely turn our power back on. And we’ve moving back in on Saturday. Whee.
Last night, when Greg came to bed, I told him I’d heard a loud sound that was either a door slamming, or a gunshot in my dreams. He said it was just him coming to bed, and there wasn’t any door slamming.
I don’t remember any of this, because I was on Ambien last night. Which brings me to a new feature of this blog, no idea how regularly it will occur: Shit I Say While On Ambien.
I do vaguely remember, right before falling asleep, talking about the ceiling moving, and Greg busted out the camera. I watched the film this morning, and it’s worse than I remembered. But it’ll be posted as soon as I can, in the interests of full disclosure and complete self-humiliation. (What else is a blog for, right?)
But now I’ve got to leave to get to work. So look for it later.
