Of Wins and Windmills
Nov. 15th, 2007 07:46 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
captainsblog...and other things tilted at in the past day or so.
The door is fixed, but not without an extra helping of agitas. After a two-man team took an hour or so to replace the cable broken singlehandedly by Man One two nights before, Man Two proceeded to write me a revised invoice for the cost of parts and labor- including the labor for fixing their own breakage. We were not amused. We offered to pay for the replacement parts, but resisted any charge for man-time resulting from them breaking the damn thing in the first place.
Now he was not amused, and he left me with words often recommended in customer service seminars: "Well, then, we'll see you in court."
Did I forget to mention my dayjob? Oops. Silly me.
I looked up the name of the company CEO, and by 9: something this morning had written a poison-pen letter that was potent enough to give me a headache just from reading it back. Amazingly, I never got to send it: they called to tell me that Boss Man had directed the very reductions I'd asked for on his own, and I sent out a check in that amount late this afternoon.
Thus I announce my new legal service: for a mere $30 an hour, I will think evil thoughts for you and see how it goes.
----
Manny, Moe and Jack have yet to respond. I suspect they're still having a schvitz or something.
----
Buying funeral clothes last week brought home a point which daily inertia had kept me from realizing: I need to get more active. NOW.
The gym we used to belong to had threatened to close over the summer, and the long-term prospect ain't great, so a month or so ago, Eleanor signed up with the wymyn's division of one of the other clubs in the area and spoke well of't. Last night, just before Pushing Daisies, that same club's androgynous facility announced its fall special, which was ending (as such things seemingly always are) the very next day. I went in today, plunked down the savings from the botched door repair with the rest to be debited monthly, and will resume a regular shedule of cardio and machine training beginning late tomorrow. I've never taken it as seriously as my wife has when we've both been doing it, but it can't hurt, and if nothing else, I'll burn way more junk food while reading on an elliptical than I am with the book in my ever-increasing lap.
----
Em has now missed three straight days of school, and tomorrow's not looking good, either. Her throat's sore and her tongue's swollen, and while she's negative for strep, the M word has been mentioned as a possibility.
The only response to that, from me at least, is the O word. No, not that one, but "oy."
I got knocked over with mono in my last two months of law school. For the middle of those weeks, I could barely get off the sofa in my apartment. To this day, certain CBS game shows make me ill just from the memory of being too weak to get off my ass and turn them off. There was a combination of despair resulting from the general malaise caused by the illness and the absolute inability of the medical profession to do anything for you other than tell you to wait it out.
At least, if she's got it, she'll get it over with, long before that crucial stage in her life.
----
I'm feeling kinda tired myself tonight. Shit, I already had that.
The door is fixed, but not without an extra helping of agitas. After a two-man team took an hour or so to replace the cable broken singlehandedly by Man One two nights before, Man Two proceeded to write me a revised invoice for the cost of parts and labor- including the labor for fixing their own breakage. We were not amused. We offered to pay for the replacement parts, but resisted any charge for man-time resulting from them breaking the damn thing in the first place.
Now he was not amused, and he left me with words often recommended in customer service seminars: "Well, then, we'll see you in court."
Did I forget to mention my dayjob? Oops. Silly me.
I looked up the name of the company CEO, and by 9: something this morning had written a poison-pen letter that was potent enough to give me a headache just from reading it back. Amazingly, I never got to send it: they called to tell me that Boss Man had directed the very reductions I'd asked for on his own, and I sent out a check in that amount late this afternoon.
Thus I announce my new legal service: for a mere $30 an hour, I will think evil thoughts for you and see how it goes.
----
Manny, Moe and Jack have yet to respond. I suspect they're still having a schvitz or something.
----
Buying funeral clothes last week brought home a point which daily inertia had kept me from realizing: I need to get more active. NOW.
The gym we used to belong to had threatened to close over the summer, and the long-term prospect ain't great, so a month or so ago, Eleanor signed up with the wymyn's division of one of the other clubs in the area and spoke well of't. Last night, just before Pushing Daisies, that same club's androgynous facility announced its fall special, which was ending (as such things seemingly always are) the very next day. I went in today, plunked down the savings from the botched door repair with the rest to be debited monthly, and will resume a regular shedule of cardio and machine training beginning late tomorrow. I've never taken it as seriously as my wife has when we've both been doing it, but it can't hurt, and if nothing else, I'll burn way more junk food while reading on an elliptical than I am with the book in my ever-increasing lap.
----
Em has now missed three straight days of school, and tomorrow's not looking good, either. Her throat's sore and her tongue's swollen, and while she's negative for strep, the M word has been mentioned as a possibility.
The only response to that, from me at least, is the O word. No, not that one, but "oy."
I got knocked over with mono in my last two months of law school. For the middle of those weeks, I could barely get off the sofa in my apartment. To this day, certain CBS game shows make me ill just from the memory of being too weak to get off my ass and turn them off. There was a combination of despair resulting from the general malaise caused by the illness and the absolute inability of the medical profession to do anything for you other than tell you to wait it out.
At least, if she's got it, she'll get it over with, long before that crucial stage in her life.
----
I'm feeling kinda tired myself tonight. Shit, I already had that.