And now, some random randomness:
- Our vending machine candy bars have gone up to 75¢.
- I backed into a Hostess delivery truck this morning, when I stopped to get my morning caffeinated beverage. No harm, no foul, as far as both the driver and I were concerned, but damn, how on earth did I not see something that ginormous? My defense is that the truck was white, and it blended in with the huge billboard at the Pepsi plant across the street. All I have to say is, hallelujah for rear-mounted spare tires. They’re bouncy
- Finally, after much swearing and nerve shredding, I have achieved W-2ness. My PIN still wasn’t working, even after having it reset on Tuesday. I tried it again yesterday. Nada. So, I called again this morning, and today’s customer service representative, who was condescending as all hell (yes, I know what a freaking PIN is, and what SSN stands for), did manage to sort out the problem. Whatever on earth the problem was. She wasn’t saying anything except that “You aren’t entering it correctly.” “It” and “correctly” were never defined. But, whatever. If she wants to try to make me feel like some sort of jackass, that’s fine, as long as she says the proper incantation on her end. Which she did, apparently, because I was finally able to access my W-2s. Praise be!
- I finished 8-9 pages of journalling from Soul Mapping yesterday. One observation: I started out with a regular gel pen, and by the time I was finished with the first page, my hand was aching. I’m sure part of it was due to the fact that I don’t do all that much writing by hand, at least not large amounts of it at once. I switched to a dip pen and India ink, because I was in a mood for brown ink and couldn’t find a brown pen. After switching, my hand stopped hurting. The pain must have been mostly due to the pen, or how I was gripping it. Apparently, the dip pen I was using is Just Right. I’ll have to keep that in mind.
- Another writing issue, related to pens, is that I tend to write so fast that my hand can’t really keep up. The result is a cramped, thoroughly illegible hash of chicken scratches. It’s not pretty. I think the dip pen made me slow down enough that I was able to gain better control over the micro-movements of my hand. And, of course, slower means less stress on the hand and more legible handwriting, which are both pluses.
- There is a rock in my shoe and it’s annoying the shit out of me. Not enough to actually do something about it, mind you, but still.
red paper boat 