What a fucking couple of days.
Wednesday, I go to a local lab to get a blood test, for an upcoming physical. Have all my paperwork, insurance card, everything is in order. You have to fast for 12 hours prior, so I don't eat dinner the night before, and only drink water. I wake up at the ass crack of dawn, even for me, to get to the lab before 6 AM, to be first in line (and so I can get back ASAP to my beloved smokes and java. Hmmmm. Wonder what that physical will reveal?). Wait until they open the doors, get first in line, wait another (inexplicable) 20 minutes to come up to the desk, and they tell me the Doc forgot to check the "reason" for the test on the front (all the tests to be taken were dutifully checked on the back of the form). I tell the automaton behind the desk that it's just for a regular old physical, and not any of the other exotic reasons listed. Seems logical that it would be "wellness." But no. This fucking drone says I have to come back, after getting the doc to check the form. I say let's call the doc. Of course the office isn't open at 6:20 AM. I say let's take the blood, you know what to test for (back of the form) and I'll have the doc call it in at 9 AM when his office opens. Nope, says the fucking Borg. More "debate" (me making logical points, her staring vacantly and continuing to say "no") ensues, and I leave in a thunderstorm of loud profanity that would make the cast of Scarface blush. So, I'm going to fast Sunday night, and try this bullshit all over again Monday morning. (The doc, cool dude that he is, just said in a phone call "check the 'wellness' box in black ink. And here's my cell phone, so they can call me at 6 AM if they have a problem Monday AM.")
I finally turned off the A/C in the apartment on Monday, when it got down in the 40s here. Of course, Wednesday, it got back up in the 70s, so I turn it back on. I hear it running, but I don't feel it getting cooler. I wake up at 5 AM Thursday in a pool of sweat, and it's like 78 in here. Apparently, the A/C isn't working now, and just blowing warm fucking air. When I get to work, I call the repair people, tell them of the EMERGENCY! and they say someone will come over that day. Well, no one shows up, I call to remind them again, they say someone will come over, no one does (again) and I spend the whole night boiling like a crawdad.
To top that off, last night, I have a major problem with my CrackBerry synching with my PC at home. I could recount about 12,000 words of all the troubles and travails, but needless to day, I spent 6 hours (!) on the phone (while suffocating in the sauna) with "elevated BlackBerry tech support" trying to resolve the problem, which consisted of downloading, deleting, uninstalling, reinstalling, rebooting and so much high-tech hackery I thought I was going to enter into the Matrix, free the human batteries and go on to make a really shitty third movie. I forgot to eat dinner, being on the phone until the wee hours.
This morning, I wake up (sweaty, and not for a good reason) for a cross town meeting at 5 AM. (It goes well). I come back home, and STILL NO GODDAMNED MAINTENANCE ON MY A/C. I work from home in the afternoon, call them again, and the dude finally shows up. Well, the unit is low on coolant, but something is frozen (if it's fucking frozen, then why do I feel as if I'm living in a kiln?) and they can't add the coolant until it thaws. On Monday. When they're back at work. (Oh, I'm so looking forward to Monday. Come home for the maintenance dude, AFTER fasting the night before, getting no java first thing in the morning and getting up at 5:30 to go visit my friends, the zombiefied dumbfucks at the lab. To get stuck with a needle). However, today, maintenance dude did leave a "portable A/C" unit. It's about 4 feet tall, and loud as hell (which reminds me of the humidifying units I had to have installed all over my house for two weeks, back when the white trash Jenna Jameson and clan did $70,000 worth of damage to my beautiful casa). And boy, it has the cooling power of dropping a single ice cube into a stadium cup full of whiskey. Oh, and did I mention that while all this was going on, I was on phone with crackberry support for ANOTHER 6 MOTHERFUCKING HOURS?! And I forgot to each lunch.
Well, here I am now, and the crackberry issue is finally *kinda* resolved. I ate a sandwich. I have a huge Crown and water beside me. And it's cooled down to a balmy 305 Kelvin. I think I've lost 8 pounds, so I guess that's good.
And best of all? You know what spurred all the crackberry software issues? This sweet bitch:
Yeah, baby. I'm BOLD.