Brad Smith (jesus_h_biscuit) wrote,
Brad Smith

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Part 1: Monday & Tuesday

This has been quite a week, no foolin'. Revelation, angst, and resolution.

It started out badly when the decision was made to go ahead and move Maggie's office to the sitting room adjacent to her bedroom, and my room into the old office. All was well until we tried to get her rickety-assed, mo'-bootleg-than-a-motherfucker desk. First of all, this thing is made of that crappy MFB. Second of all, the people she bought the thing from bootlegged it together with not only the wrong kind of screws, but nails as well. Yes, I said nails. Some of which were driven in at odd angles, the sharp bits sticking out into thin air and the nail head bent over into the MFB. Yeah. I should have just took a match or six to the bastid right then, but nooooooo...

So after the kids are gone to spend the night with Nathan, we're trying to figure out how to move this thing to the back of the house. It broke apart twice before we even got it out of the room. We managed, finally, to get it out - but not before Maggie yelled at me and I yelled back. Now bear in mind that after 8 years of friendship, we've never even so much as scowled at one another, and you'll understand the levels of stress induced frustration we were experiencing...

Maggie: "You know what, this is just really unneccessary to do it like that."
Me: "YOU know what? I don't give a fuck - now help me move this goddamned thing and shut your cake hole, woman."

Okay, so I really didn't say that last little bit about the cake hole. The proof is that I still have a pulse. Anywhore, we get all of her office stuff moved and by this time it's the next day. We spend that entire day trying to get all of her computer/router/phone/printer/fax/scanner crap set up. I was so frustrated from the previous night's efforts that I only slept for 4 hours. Okay. So we're doing away with the Linksys router we had been using to network her laptop to my computer and installing the new Netgear wireless router when all hell breaks loose. Let me 'splain. The Netgear router (which I have affectionately named "Fuck Rag") didn't come with an installation manual. Oh no, they feel it is a much better idea to pack a CD-Rom full of useless crap instead. Then, adding insult to injury , ::feels bile rising in throat and blood coming to a simmer:: unless you register your product online, you cannot even get Netgear tech support to talk to you. I learned this after I waited on the phone for 20 minutes - only to have it answered by an Indian guy whose accent was not ONLY thicker than frozen peanut butter but spoke faster than Speedy Goddamned Gonzales. NOt that I have a problem with this at all, I can learn to acclimate, but he got a little rude with me before the call's end. Rude with ME. ME! Near the end of our time together, I was muttering things to myself like "Ya Gatdamned wannabe John Moschitta curry eatin' bastid..." which promptly made me snap back into reality after he says he can no longer help me until I register the router online as it cannot be done over the phone. I said "Oh, are you presuming that you've actually helped me up until this point?" followed by "You know what, I really appreciate your level of customer care there Hadji - I feel MUCH better about the product I've purchased from your company now. Thanks ever so much for your time, you continue to have a superior day... to EVERYONE ELSE ON THE GODDAMNED PLANET!!" ::slams phone down, starting an earthquake amongst the rickety-assed bootleg desk::

Then it happens. I turn around, and Maggie is standing on my computer chair with one end of a coax cable around the ceiling fan and the other around her neck, staring blankly at me... I'm telling you, I laughed so hard that I thought I broke a rib! I couldn't stop laughing for almost 5 full minutes, it was so funny. You know, when you get that frustrated and end up laughing that hard for that long, it is clearly because you needed it. First revelation of this hellish experience - don't get so wound up in anger that you miss an opportunity to take yourself down a peg with goofyness.

Damien, my sweet, wonderful boyfriend, came over on his lunch hour and got the router working. The three of us had lunch together and he almost killed Maggie and I both by making us laugh hysterically while we were eating by explaining something about a guy at work who was evidently trying to "get his smack on" with another coworker. Presumably he meant "get his MACK on". Alas, it was funnier than duct tape on a cat's paws. After lunch I went back to work trying to set up her phone. Maggie has a broadband phone for her office. (I forget what the box it uses is called, so I've named it "Fuck Chop".) You connect it through the tv/internet coax cable. Now bear in mind, we also have the cable modem and router connected to that same cable as well, and it was a nightmare getting everything set up just so. After well over an hour of failed attempts, my frustration and lack of adequate sleep got the best of me and I told her that I was giving up for the time being and walking away. I went to take a nap for an hour or so, but was too frustrated to sleep so I laid there for an hour drifting in and out. When I wake up, I discover that Damien had called to see if we'd made any progress, only to have Maggie tell him how I'd gotten my ass kicked by Fuck Chop. So what does he do, this amazing, thoughtful, sweet man I've chosen? He takes off the rest of the day and comes right back to our house to help out. After I dragged my 1/2 dead carcass out of bed and got my bearings, I'm doing stuff in the living room when I heard a dial tone. Maggie and I both go running into her office to a smiling Damien who has successfully gotten everything set up and working properly.

Part 2: Wednesday & Thursday coming later on this afternoon...

On Monday, my baby girl Avery will be 2 years old. We asked her where she wanted to go for her birthday dinner and quickly she told us "Deevie Deevies!!" Translation: Stevi B's. Mee Mee (Aunt Amy) ordered her cake yesterday, so that's one less thing to worry about. I think for an actual party we're going to do something here at the house, but it is undecided as of yet.

Gotta get back to the laundry...
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