I realize these days that what stresses me are not the things (nor the intensity of those things) that used to stress me. It occurred to me over the weekend that Book Club was this Wednesday at our house, and that the house was a pit and that I had no idea what to serve as vittles. Plus, I still had a way to go in the book! This house is not easy to clean, and it takes me several days, so I’ve been spending time each day attacking different areas. (And then reading when I can). Tomorrow I really need to go to the store, which is NOT a simple task, with the grocery store a good 35 minutes away, so it takes a big chunk out of the day. I’m on the brink of panicked, but then I used to feel the same way when a proposal’s deadline was approaching at work. (I hate that feeling of stress). And I’ve always managed to rise to the occasion. It’s just that the time beforehand always feels like that will never be the case.
I have a hunch that my Book Club cohorts (all two of them) probably won’t be fans of this book (that I recommended reading). In my opinion, it is very good, and it has been a huge eye-opener to me, but it wasn’t what I expected. I thought it would be a sort of therapy session from Mary Trump’s background as a psychologist, but not. (Unless the very ending soothes us to a degree, which I haven’t quite gotten to yet). No, it truly is about the reckoning of our country’s trauma that is deeply entrenched in the horrific and blatant racism our country is based on. Holy shit, were we godawful people throughout the inception of this country and up until this very day. (And the republicans desperately want to “white”-wash all of it). I think it’s an important read, and I’m actually quite furious that our social studies/history education was like so much water added to the gravy that it couldn’t even be recognized as gravy.
I was on hold with Mor Furniture ( For Less!
) for an inordinate period of time, and the absolutely bitchy woman who finally deigned to answer my call informed me in her cold, pissy, who-gives-a-shit voice that they *think* our furniture will be delivered to their warehouse around October 18th. Maybe. “Can’t guarantee it, ma’m.” Sigh.
John’s Facebook account has been majorly hacked. The hackers apparently managed to change his password AND his email address that is associated with his account, so anything he’s done to report the hack is suspicious of HIM. He has tried EVERYTHING, to no avail, to try to gain access to his account. Facebook sucks donkey dicks. For example: “If you cannot access your account, change your password.” Right. How does one do that when you can’t access your account?! He has Googled every single tip or trick and tried them all. One, to try to change his password, it sends a “code,” and it sends the code to the HACKER’S EMAIL ADDRESS, so John never receives that code. He also discovered that there was a major attempt to hack his Netflix and Amazon accounts, but he was able to thwart those attacks because THOSE companies actually have a sensible method to do so. Including Amazon having a real, live PERSON to talk to. I don’t think I have ever seen him so frustrated and angry.
With all the shit, it’s important (right?) to have something uplifting. Nate and Sandra took Quinn to a very cool Pumpkin Patch that had all kinds of fun things for kids to do. Today was quite pretty, but it was windy and cold!
He was the “caboose” on the cow train!
There’s a possibility we may see them this coming up weekend! Woohoo!!!
