I love the phrase What The Fuck. It was designed for me. Because I appear to be in What the Fuck Land-every day now. Yet, I’m still smiling so there is a Not What The Fuck God out there somewhere.
As you recall things were going awry in my world. I feared that someone had put a voodoo curse on me. The fuel tank ran dry-I got 150 gallons and I’m able to use heat for the moment. The coffeepot finally died and I replaced it with a cheapo Krups ($39.99 after rebate) which I hate-it is the loudest coffee pot I’ve ever heard/seen. The computer issue which was really a bad mouse? I bought the new computer out of frustration.
Then it started again. Thanksgiving weekend, Saturday morning to be more precise, the Comcast modem died. Died. The Comcast tech was very nice and scheduled a service call for Sunday morning between 8:30 and 11. No problem-they were, after all, giving me a new modem and no service fee. So when the modem rose from the dead Saturday night I still insisted on a new one and now things are groovy.
But, only for a split second. My NEW computer started acting up and on Wednesday morning it died! Yes, the computer I bought on Nov. 12 died on Nov. 30. When the nice but simple-minded customer service dude at Best Buy asked if I planned to buy a new computer after my refund I nearly went ballistic. “No, I’m not buying a new computer, you’re going to go get another one just like this one and bring it to me. Then you’re going to take them both to the Geek Squad and have all the data transferred from the old, new computer to the new new one.” He started with those calming techniques people use with postal Postal workers. We’re all good now, though the data transfer and resetting up of the new new computer took hours.
But, wait.. That in and of itself surely doesn’t call for an exorcist?
Friday night I get home from work, open mail to find a letter from BLUE CROSS BLUE SHIELD/ANTHEM saying that my rate is changing, though their “...focus everyday is on improving the lives of the people we serve.…” RIGHT. My $713 a month will now be $834 a month starting Jan. 1. They devoted an additional page to talking about health care reform and why any change on my part to allow me to live and eat and buy gas would jeopardize my status with healthcare reform. Reads more like a threat to me. Of course there is the whole debate on whether health care reform will survive the debacle we call politics. And heavens, lets not get started on how this marvelous country of ours can’t manage to feed the poor or provide adequate, reasonably priced healthcare.
That was Friday night. Saturday afternoon’s mail includes a letter from my life insurance people. Yep! Rate increase due to a renewal based on my age. Deep breaths. Though I actually have to chuckle at the spate of shit coming my way. I’m having dinner with a friend so I escape the Demon house for a few hours. Arriving home at 10:30 PM, I hit the garage door opener as I fly in the drive. Yep. It’s broken, door won’t open, though track makes an attempt to move. To my fairly experienced eye I can’t see any obvious issues I might address. Can’t afford a service call quite yet so for now: Car-driveway. Garage-empty.
Sunday was a day of rest, even for the devil. And, so far Monday is going smoothly. Of course it’s only 7:30 AM. Not touching the television as I think we have a problem there, but I can’t drink this early in the day so I will put that out of my mind.
Swanlady suggests I find a good man who is a ‘fix-it-upper’. I remind her that I dated one or two or fifty of those types and the sliding door off of the kitchen still doesn’t work. Only male-related solutions I can come up with right now?
1. Offer to ‘do’ the service guy(s).
2. Breakdown and date some wealthy old 75-80 year old. I’d have to ‘do’ him too, I’m sure.
If you know a good Exorcist call me.