Category: Crankypantsing

Crankypantsing, Photography

New Math

Shelly

Zyrtec + no caffeine = sleep dips

I feel like someone replaced my brain with a wool blanket. Ugh. I don’t know what it is, but my allergies have been bad the last couple of days. It seems to have coincided with the start of the Indiana Rainy Season, so I’m guessing leaf mold is the culprit.

And a completely unrelated photo.

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Bee and Rose of Sharon, September 2008

And a funny story break.

LIT (the library’s IT department) sent out a mass email telling us to be careful opening attachments, even if we know the person who apparently sent them. Anyone want to guess how this better-late-than-never advice was distributed? Yep, as an attachment. Epic fail, LIT!

Crankypantsing

Twinkle Twinkle

Shelly

I noticed last week that people were starting to put up holiday lights. I remember when I used to think it was ridiculous to launch into Christmas decorating right after Thanksgiving. And then, it began to happen before Thanksgiving. Now, it’s starting before Halloween.

Stop! The! Insanity!

Also, I wish someone would tell the Bumpasses to put away their horribly tacky–and not in a fun, kitsch kinda way–scarecrow. It’s in the common hallway, on the way to the laundry room, and it bugs the hell out of me. We’re not supposed to leave crap in the hallway, and that scarecrow definitely qualifies as crap.

If it’s still there the next time I do laundry, I’ll try to get a photo of it. It’s, um, special. The best part is that it’s planted in a large flower pot.

Crankypantsing

Here Comes the Flood

Shelly

I called maintenance last Friday, because my upstairs neighbor’s tub (I think) is leaking. I woke up at 4am to water splashing on my bathroom floor tiles. By the time maintenance got here, at about 1PM, the dripping had long stopped. The wall still felt cool and damp to the touch, though. And, there is mold growing where there’s never been any before.

I knew that there had once been a leak in that spot, because the drywall and paint were damaged. The leak was (presumably) fixed, and the wall was patched before I moved in. This was the first sign I’d seen of an active leak in the two years I’ve been here.

The maintenance guy felt the wall and said it was dry. Funny, because it felt cool and damp to me. And then he felt around and poked a couple of holes in the spots that had the most damage. He said that everything was bone dry. Not possible. I insisted that there damned well was a leak. He went upstairs to look, didn’t see anything, turned on the tub, then the shower, flushed the toilet, and came back to say that there was on leak. WhatthefuckEVAR. I know there was a leak. I may be batshit crazy, but I don’t actually hallucinate that sort of stuff.

I explained to him that I wasn’t trying to be a pain in his ass, but that if something is leaking in the wall, it’s going to cause structural damage. No skin off my nose, but the folks who own the place might prefer that the leak is found and fixed before they have to gut the walls.

Anyway, he went back upstairs to look some more. Whatever he did made the leak reappear. I went up to tell him that there was now water streaming down the wall. He asked me what was making it leak. Huh?! Whatever the hell you just did, jeenyous. (And I thought I had a short attention span!) I expected him to follow me back downstairs to look at the amount of water that was leaking, but he didn’t. I never saw him again. I assumed he found the leak and fixed it.

Silly me.

Now, of course, it just started leaking again. Bad. This time, instead of just a few splashes, it was a bunch of splashes and a stream of water. I’m going to have to call again tomorrow, and I’m not happy about it. Mr. Fixit acted kind of put out that he had to locate a leak. Like it was my fault or something, or like I was making it up.

I am not amused.

Crankypantsing, Photography

It’s Baaaack

Shelly

Duke is publishing regular updates of outage numbers. I checked at 11am, and there were about 6700 customers in Monroe County who still didn’t have power. When I checked again about half an hour later, the number had gone to 6900. Yes. It went up. Restoring power? Ur doin it rong!

That did not bode well, so I came home at noon, because I had a bunch of things to do before it got too dark. Like, haul laundry over to the next building (which, by the way, was kind of a gross experience, as their laundry room has black mold and stinks to high heavens), clean the bad food out of the fridge and freezer, and then go pick up Miss Kitty to take for her subQ treatment. So, lots of business for me.

I managed to schlep my clothes next door, came home, and was standing in the kitchen, trying to decide which tasty, salt-filled, non-perishable snack “food” would do for lunch, when the electricity came back on. Huzzah! I still haven’t cleaned out the fridge and freezer, but I’ll have light to do that by later, so I’m not in a hurry. And, I can actually cook something that resembles real food, so I don’t have to eat Cheetos for lunch. Oatmeal is sounding really good.

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Bee and Flower

Crankypantsing

Thanks, Ike

Shelly

The remnants of Hurricane Ike blew through Bloomington on Sunday. Heavy winds knocked out power in my area around 3pm. According to Duke, it will likely be off until Thursday or even Saturday.

We are not amused.

The only high points, if you can call them that, are A) it’s not cold out and B) I can take showers at the house where I’m cat sitting. Also, the other half of my apartment complex has electricity (as do all the homes around us–grrr!), so I can still do laundry.

Crankypantsing

Other People’s Crankypantsing

Shelly

I left work early, onna counta suffering from drug-induced brain deadedness. Anyway, one of my upstairs neighbors was leaving with his Lab puppy (who, by the way, is not looking so very puppyish anymore) as I was coming in. We did the “HowareyouI’mfinehowareyou” routine, and he said that he was having a crappy day, because he was off work and BORED. Bored?! WTF is that?! I think I was bored once, in 1975[1].

He said that he works so much that when he has a day off, he doesn’t know what to do with himself. Dude, get a hobby! Or learn to appreciate the fine art of ass-sitting[2].

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1. My mom’s cure for bored children was to put them to work, so I quickly learned that being bored would never, ever be to my benefit.
2. I ran into a high school classmate a couple of years after graduation. After catching up for a few minutes, he commented that one thing he missed about being a teenager was not having sufficient time to sit on his ass and do nothing. Amen, Pedro.

Crankypantsing

Postal

Shelly

I sent a package via USPS Priority Mail on August 22nd. Priority packages are supposed to be delivered in two days. And because I also got delivery confirmation for the package, I know that it has not yet–ten days out–been delivered.

We are not amused.

Also unamusing is having a big ol’ allergy attack from eating raw green peppers. I used to get them all the time from pretty much all raw fruits and veggies, but haven’t had a problem the last few years. Aside from hives and asthma, I’m pretty sure I coughed up a lung, and my voice is gone. But those are just minor details. I live on raw green peppers! What the hell am I going to bring for a crunchy snack tomorrow?! If I’m reacting (again dammit!) to green peppers, then celery is out. So are apples. Carrots might be okay. Edamame? (Not so crunchy, but green, at least.) Cucumbers? Grrr!

If anyone needs me, I’ll be in Benadryl-induced coma.