The plan was to call Ned this
morning to arrange grocery shopping and a ride to the
shrink in the afternoon. Ha! As I was struggling to get
dressed the phone rang. It was Ned telling me his phone
doesn't work so don't call at the appointed time. I'm
still working on the karmic connection to the van. Is
Mercury retrograde or something?
I had repeatedly told Nancy that
when The Gleaners and I came out on DVD I would
finally spring for a DVD player. Just when Ned brought me
back here after the shrink appointment, UPS arrived with
my new DVD/VCR combo player. Ned decides we should hook
it up right away despite the fact that I don't have any
DVDs yet. I ordered The Gleaners and I at the same
time as the DVD/VCR but it ain't here yet. No extension
cord reaches anywhere near the TV. The RF cord won't
reach the TV from anyplace where we can plug in the
DVD/VCR. He knocks over a stack of vinyl records. I try
to figure out where to put the damn thing. Meanwhile,
when Ned moved the TV off its perch, he took the Lazy
Susan out from under it. Rather than putting it back, I
stuck it underneath a bookcase. Wilbur decided it was a
home invader and puffed up in full threat display at it.
We never got the DVD/VCR hooked up and now my TV
reception is screwed up. It's tough being the only person
in America without cable.
Instead:
"Anything else
I can help with?"
"Yeah, can you replace a
light bulb?"
"Got a bulb?"
I produce a bulb. He unscrews
the globe from the fixture. Crash!
"Sorry."
He screws in the bulb and
picks up the broken glass so Wilbur will not step
in it and cut himself.
"Anything else I can help
with?"
"No!"
I went upstairs to dial-up and get
my email. (Also am only person in America who still uses
dialup access). Can't connect. I try again periodically
between phone calls from Zsolt who is having trouble
copying his Word autocorrect entries from the desktop
machine to the lapi. I could do that in 2 seconds if I
could just drive over there (of course it's a 55 minute
drive...) but I can't drive. No English words I use seem
to be able to get across that username.acl isn't
meant literally and copying MSO97.acl will work. If I
still belonged to STC
I would turn in my membership. E.B. White is turning over
in his grave. Rudolf Flesch is laughing at me (is he
still alive?). I am losing my words. I give up on it.
Meanwhile my ISP is still down so all those last minute
newsletter articles will have to wait until
tomorrow.
I reach in my pocket for my
cellphone. No cellphone. Did I put it on the desk? The
bureau? The dining room table? No. I panic. It's like
this is the last straw, the thing that means next stop
assisted living. I'm only 52! How can I have deteriorated
this much in a week? Does ibuprofen cause brain damage?
OK, I've been keeping the cellphone in my breast pocket
because I can't get at my pants pocket. The strap for the
sling keeps shifting around and must have squeezed the
phone out of the pocket. It's probably in the van
communing with the new transmission or in the parking lot
or my shrink's office. Maybe I don't need assisted
living, just a servant. Let's see, bad writing is
supposed to protect against Alzheimer's so I wonder if
bad technical training over the phone has the same
protective effect? And isn't ibuprofen supposed to
prevent something or other else associated with aging?
It will be tomorrow before I can
post this - ISP permitting.
I really hate that bare light
bulb.
