Could it get worse? Well, yes. When i couldn’t get the phone to work in my apartment, i naturally turned to my mobile phone, which i’d kept around for emergencies. So wouldn’t you know, when i had an emergency and needed it, it sensed the opportunity and wouldn’t work. See, because i kept it turned off so nobody would bother me by calling, i’d missed the text messages warning me that i needed to renew my coverage or lose the ability to make or receive a call, not to mention forfeiting the hundreds of minutes i’d accumulated over the years.
Since the Segway was marooned in my apartment owing to the lack of elevator service, i went off yesterday afternoon to the T-Mobile store in the Prius only to be unable to find a parking place within two blocks, and somehow in the middle of all that and racing to meet Sandy and David, i misplaced my phone and couldn’t find it this morning when i was ready to set out to the T-Mobile store again.
And then spent the day Skyping Sonic to try to get them to come to my apartment to get me phone/Internet service sometime before the damn 3rd of December as well as making a trip back to my old place to haul some unwanted stuff out to the sidewalk in front of the empty house next door for scavengers.
And somehow forgot that i needed to call the folks who’d agreed to go to Noe Street tomorrow to pick up that giant old white elephant TV to set up a time window so that by the time i got back here to get access to Skype to call them, their phone rolled over to a voicemail that was full. So i frantically sent them an email begging for a time window of their choosing tomorrow.
And then had a final completely unsatisfactory conversation with Sonic which concluded with my accepting an appointment on the 3rd of December to get my service working.
At the end of the day, the elevator was still not working, so i climbed back down to my apartment in such despair that i’d have shot myself except that i was too bummed out to write the mandatory Farewell Cruel World note of sufficient eloquence, too exhausted to edit the note to bring it up to my standards, and most importantly because i’m the only expatriate Texan on the planet without a gun since i’d got rid of it several years ago when my health started failing and keeping a gun in my nightstand drawer made it entirely too handy.
For today’s pic, here’s a shot of the hall bookcase in the old place before i’d boxed up all those jams, jellies, and pickles for the move. If the move had not been so spur of the moment, i’d have not made all that jam this last summer.
