Well, we're more or less moved into the new place now. Still have the prerequisite amount of loose shit left at the old apartment that I have to work up the energy to go gather one day soon, but most of the important stuff is here now and we've been sleeping here since Saturday. Well, Connor and I have. Jonathan spent Saturday and Sunday at the old apartment due to an utter fiasco centered around his truck... it's a longer story than I feel up to recounting right now, but I'm sure I'll get to it soon. It has to be one of THE most frustrating, godawful stories of 'how much more can I POSSIBLY take?' that you'll ever hear. One of those things that's funny LATER...
Connor started his new school today. I can't get his new teacher's name right or his principal, but I figure that having met each of them only once gives me a little room for error. Plus it's not like they have short, neat little names like Smith or something. Principal is something like Satterly, I think, and his teacher is Samendoff... maybe. I'm at least close on both counts, even if not 100% accurate. Both seemed to be very nice, unlike the grumpy bitch who works the front desk in the office. She looked at Connor and I like we'd crawled out from under a rock when we walked in to register him this morning. He was all neat and tidy, cute as could be, and being his normal charming self. Me, well... it was early and they were lucky I was even CONSCIOUS, forget about charming. I'd gone to bed at about 4:30 in morning and was up again at 7:00 a.m. to get him ready for his first day, and that's just the topper for close to a week of about that same sleep schedule. Hell, I'm just surprised no one's read about me climbing a clock tower by now. Anyway, we were at least civilized, all combed and freshly washed, and she gets that look on her face like she smells dog shit on her shoe as soon as we walk in the door. Don't know what her problem is, but I'm perfectly willing to discuss ways she can be cured of it if she doesn't develop a better attitude. She wouldn't like me when I'm angry.
The cats are finally here, too, by the way. They weren't here until last night, and were NOT happy about the situation. Even Jonathan's cat, Mickey the Asshole, was glad to see me when he got here. Will wonders never cease. They spent all day getting used to the set up here, and sniffing everything they could stick their nose on, including some things I'd rather they didn't. That's a cat for you. Although, dogs are worse...
This kind of deserves it's own article, but I'm just going to throw it up here with this post because I'm feeling lazy and brain fried...
You know how there's tennis elbow? Well, I have discovered a new condition of a similar nature. I should have my name in medical journals. Ladies and gentlemen, I give you... IKEA Finger. This is the painful and persistent condition produced by going hog wild in an IKEA store and spending WAY too much money, then going home and having to ASSEMBLE what you bought. There's this one particularly dastardly little tool... don't know what it's called, but it comes with damned near every single IKEA purchase that requires assembly. It's shaped like, well... imagine writing a capital L... now turn the paper upside down and use the vertical line of the aforementioned L to make ANOTHER capital L. Get the picture? That's this little tool, and it has some crazy hectagonal or octagonal facet to it, so that the ends go into these fucked up little wannabe screw things that hold your shit together. You have to use this little midget tool *it's maybe 3 inches long, MAX* to get those screws in, and due to it's tiny size *which is puzzling seeing as how the screws it's used on are ENORMOUS* and diameter it's a HUGE pain in the ass to crank the thing around, and it's so small it bites into your skin on your fingers and makes your fingers cramp into a permanent claw position. Instant arthritis. I have callouses and blisters and involuntary hand spasms, all thanks to IKEA. Don't even get me started on the quality of their instruction manuals that come with each product, either. All pictures. No words. NOT KIDDING. It's ALL illustrated, and in the broadest sense of the word. No guarantees on a CLEAR illustration, but an illustration there is. I don't know who at that company came up with the brilliant idea to leave actual LANGUAGE out of the step-by-step guide to putting a computer desk together, but I hope they find themselves with a nasty case of genital warts.
I'm going to go fall down for awhile now. I'd apologize for the rambling nature of this post, but after the last month and a half that I've had, I'm not apologizing for anything short of kick to the groin. And that's iffy...
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