Don't expect any life mystery solving...

I really feel far too tired to concentrate on writing today, but those of you who read this blog know not to expect much anyway. I wanted to give a little update on my life for those of you who have been wondering why I have been MIA.

My Mom was here this weekend. We had a really great visit, and went shopping a lot (though once was for quilt stuff, but still it was fun.) I got to show Mom my office that I always talk about, and we went to see Miss Pettigrew, which was seriously right up my alley. AND I cooked my very first holiday dinner that we ate on my wedding china that I have never used before (half of it is in Buffalo in my old attic room)!

The loveliness of this weekend is of course countered by 7:30 am wake up times everyday, which really do sometimes set me off schedule. So now I'm tired, very tired. I always love company but I often spend days cleaning the house prior to their visits, and then days after recovering.

Additionally, I had the added strain of Comcast cable. I tell you that I've heard enough stories about comcast to not truly be surprised by this, but...

• I came home last Monday to discover that I had no cable, internet or phone service (Thanks Comcast for your irrestible bundling prices!) Since I am a freak of nature and don't have a cell phone, I sat around my house wondering if there had been some sort of Armagedon. Then I figured out I can tap into the library's wireless and contacted Comcast's Live Chat. They told me there was an outage in the area, and I should try again in "24-48 hours."
  
• Tuesday night I discovered that the situation had not changed.
  
• I had live-chat number 2 in which I was told there was no outage in my area at all! I was told I had an appointment for Wednesday and was given an appointment confirmation number (I know, mythical, but it does sometimes happen)
  
• Wednesday, Rob's only day off in a 8 day stretch, we decide to check in with comcast to verify the time of the appointment
  
• Alas, I'm told my confirmation number is in fact a myth
  
• I am then told that the phone operators can't verify appointments, and I should live chat someone.
  
• I live chat with a lovely girl named Pursima. (At this point you might be bored with this play by play action, but I have to get this out or I will fester and rot with hatred and animosity). I tell Pursima, "I have an appointment, Confirmation # 123, can you verify what time to expect the maintenance guy?" Pursima tells me, "How can I help you today?" So I repeat myself. Pursima tells me, "I can get you an appointment for March 24 between 8 am and 12 pm."
  
• Pursima and I engage in a long game of back and forth chatting in which I am forced to say, "I don't know if I'm making myself clear, but what I want to know is what time is the dude coming to my house." And which Pursima is forced to say,"Oh, I canceled your appointment to make you a new one on Monday."
  
• Sadly, I am then forced to say, "I'd like to speak with your supervisor." To which Pursima is forced to say "You can take your cable box to the local shop, but I'm not helping you."
  
• I screen shot my live chat dialogue box and save it for retribution.
  
• I call Comcast and make a new appointment for the following morning, using a voice which clearly indicated I have the weight of the world on my shoulders.
  
• I take off Thursday to sit at home, and actually do work.
  
• Again, I TAKE OFF a day of work so that I can DO WORK.
  
• Because I am dumb.
  
• Between 8 and 5, I manage to do an inordinately large amount of work with Rob's cell phone in my hand and my feet propped on the window sill, and one eye on the parking lot in front of our building.
  
• At 4:55 pm, a Comcast truck pulls up and sits in front of my building for 10 minutes without any one getting out.
  
• The Door of the comcast truck opens to reveal a very nice man who comes into my apartment, tests wires, goes out into the back porch-like area, comes in and tells me, "Well it looks like Comcast cut your line." I say, "I don't understand. I paid my bill and wouldn't Comcast have a record of shutting off my service?" And he says, "No, I mean literally they cut your line. They opened the locked box, took a pair of wire cutters cut the line, closed the box, and left all the wires inside."
  
• The conversation ends with me saying, "Why would they do that?" and Jose saying, "I just don't know ma'am."

Wow, I'm really sad that I wrote all that. It must have really, really been bugging me.

I'm even more sad that you read all that. Poor you. You must be a good friend to read all of my story without me having to dramatize it in any way. So I say, "Thank you."