frustrations
Dec. 4th, 2006 10:17 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7I am having one of those days.
First, Not!(quite)Asshole Manager asked on Saturday if I could maybe work some extra days/hours. I said maybe, let me know which ones. She said she'd call me that night and let me know.
This morning I called and said, "Look, just tell me when I'm on the schedule next," as this is my day off.
I'm not on until tomorrow morning, when I'm coming in 3 hours early. OK, fine. (But I had to leave a message and have them call me back to find that out.)
Meanwhile Z went out to go to work. He came back in, in something of a panic. "Um, the Check Engine light is on." That's odd. I went out. It didn't stall, but the light was on again.
So I called Roadside Assistance and he went off to work.
Meanwhile, I'm on hold with Roadside Assistance. I've been pondering possible uniforms for the roller derby team, and I thought, why don't I do some sketches of my ideas? I have a drawing tablet for my computer. I think it's right on my desk. But I don't want to work at my desk-- it's warmer at the kitchen table. Well, the outlet by the kitchen table's a two-prong and my computer's power cord is three, so I need an adapter for that. I just saw one last night lying in an improbable place and had thought to myself, "Why is that there? I should go put it in the outlet." But, try as I may, listening to the fuzzy hold music, I could not find this adapter. It was driving me crazy. I saw it. It was somewhere I was last night. I was in the living room. It is not there. It should be in the kitchen, but it was not. This is so dumb. Where is it?
Finally Roadside Assistance answers the phone. I describe the problem, and say, "This happened once before, when the temperature had dropped sharply and I was low on fuel. Now, it was cold last night, but not extremely cold, and the car has less than half a tank of gas, but not a lot less, according to the fuel guage."
"Do you want it towed in to have the mechanics look at it?" she asks.
I think about it. Towing would be what, $300? "Last time this happened the mechanics charged me $100 to say, 'The sensor was registering that it was low on fuel' and when I said, 'But it wasn't low on fuel,' they ignored me."
"Hm," says the girl. "Well, is it running OK now?"
"Yes, but the check engine light still comes on." I think back. "Last winter they said it often takes three or four restarts before the check engine light stops coming on."
"It could well be that," the girl admits.
"So... in short, it's probably nothing."
"Well, if it runs ok, it's nothing, but if it's running ragged or stalling out or not running at all, then you should stop right where you are and have it towed in."
"Right," I say, "thanks," and we hang up.
Pointless frustration. This damn car isn't even paid off yet and you know what? It's already at 75,000 miles. And the fuel guage has always been a waste of space, as it doesn't tell you it's empty until it's well empty. Which is why I reset the mileage odometer every time I fill it up, but Somebody Else Who Drives It sees no need to do so, and still relies on the fuel guage: the fact that it's on four bars (out of ten) does not mean that it has nearly a half a tank left, it means that it has about 1/4 of a tank left, and as we well know, once the guage measures under half, that means it'll drop rapidly and you'll be out of gas before you know it. So yes, this is the same problem as last winter-- at anything less than a full tank when the temperature drops to below freezing, it'll register an engine failure. Thank you, Toyota, for the repeated heart attacks.
I go into my bedroom and find a two-to-three prong adapter. [Why does this house have such shitty wiring? Oh right, because it's old enough to be a pain in the ass but not old enough to be remotely interesting. It's no better-constructed than the new soulless subdivisions, and yet, it's not modern in any sense of the word. Great.] I plug it into the wall and plug the three-prong power strip into it. But it won't go. I unplug it and look at it. It's got a defective slot in one of the prongs. Great. Thinking what a terrible idea this is, I take a fork and go to town on it. I try again, and instead of plugging in the computer, I cleverly plug in an inexpensive lamp.
No light.
I decide that I have shoved enough forks into electrical equipment today, and throw out the adapter. If it's a piece of shit I am not going to waste my time on it again, so it's going into the GARBAGE, where we usually don't manage to put our junk in this house with the result that we keep having to evaluate things again and again to remember that, oh right, they're garbage. CURSE my thrifty ancestors who have instilled in me the habit of keeping things for reuse without also passing on any of the talents that can transform trash into treasure!!
So I resume my search. I know the adapter I saw last night was not in my bedroom, because I didn't really go in there. That wasn't it. There was another one. A gray one. It was a new one, too. I saw it. Where did I see it?
Finally it strikes me that I should have seen my drawing tablet by now, in all this searching, but I haven't. It isn't on my desk after all. I cleaned my desk off. So it has to be... elsewhere. Uh. I check three or four Elsewheres. But I have no memory of the last time I touched it. I don't remember. I run out of the obvious Elsewheres.
For all intents and purposes, then, I do not have an adapter, and I do not have a drawing tablet. I cannot do what it was I wanted to do. All of the above was futile.
I have always wished I were the kind of person whose house is in order, who always knows where their possessions are and how many they have, and can produce them when they are called for. But I sort of don't believe that people like that really exist in real life.
Incidentally I have had to use my wall-mounted house telephone three times in the last two days to call my cellphone to figure out where I left it. I don't understand how people can leave their phones on silent mode, because I would not have a phone anymore if I did.
I promise my next LJ entry will be funny. Or, well, maybe not the next one. But one of these will not be whining. One of these days.
First, Not!(quite)Asshole Manager asked on Saturday if I could maybe work some extra days/hours. I said maybe, let me know which ones. She said she'd call me that night and let me know.
This morning I called and said, "Look, just tell me when I'm on the schedule next," as this is my day off.
I'm not on until tomorrow morning, when I'm coming in 3 hours early. OK, fine. (But I had to leave a message and have them call me back to find that out.)
Meanwhile Z went out to go to work. He came back in, in something of a panic. "Um, the Check Engine light is on." That's odd. I went out. It didn't stall, but the light was on again.
So I called Roadside Assistance and he went off to work.
Meanwhile, I'm on hold with Roadside Assistance. I've been pondering possible uniforms for the roller derby team, and I thought, why don't I do some sketches of my ideas? I have a drawing tablet for my computer. I think it's right on my desk. But I don't want to work at my desk-- it's warmer at the kitchen table. Well, the outlet by the kitchen table's a two-prong and my computer's power cord is three, so I need an adapter for that. I just saw one last night lying in an improbable place and had thought to myself, "Why is that there? I should go put it in the outlet." But, try as I may, listening to the fuzzy hold music, I could not find this adapter. It was driving me crazy. I saw it. It was somewhere I was last night. I was in the living room. It is not there. It should be in the kitchen, but it was not. This is so dumb. Where is it?
Finally Roadside Assistance answers the phone. I describe the problem, and say, "This happened once before, when the temperature had dropped sharply and I was low on fuel. Now, it was cold last night, but not extremely cold, and the car has less than half a tank of gas, but not a lot less, according to the fuel guage."
"Do you want it towed in to have the mechanics look at it?" she asks.
I think about it. Towing would be what, $300? "Last time this happened the mechanics charged me $100 to say, 'The sensor was registering that it was low on fuel' and when I said, 'But it wasn't low on fuel,' they ignored me."
"Hm," says the girl. "Well, is it running OK now?"
"Yes, but the check engine light still comes on." I think back. "Last winter they said it often takes three or four restarts before the check engine light stops coming on."
"It could well be that," the girl admits.
"So... in short, it's probably nothing."
"Well, if it runs ok, it's nothing, but if it's running ragged or stalling out or not running at all, then you should stop right where you are and have it towed in."
"Right," I say, "thanks," and we hang up.
Pointless frustration. This damn car isn't even paid off yet and you know what? It's already at 75,000 miles. And the fuel guage has always been a waste of space, as it doesn't tell you it's empty until it's well empty. Which is why I reset the mileage odometer every time I fill it up, but Somebody Else Who Drives It sees no need to do so, and still relies on the fuel guage: the fact that it's on four bars (out of ten) does not mean that it has nearly a half a tank left, it means that it has about 1/4 of a tank left, and as we well know, once the guage measures under half, that means it'll drop rapidly and you'll be out of gas before you know it. So yes, this is the same problem as last winter-- at anything less than a full tank when the temperature drops to below freezing, it'll register an engine failure. Thank you, Toyota, for the repeated heart attacks.
I go into my bedroom and find a two-to-three prong adapter. [Why does this house have such shitty wiring? Oh right, because it's old enough to be a pain in the ass but not old enough to be remotely interesting. It's no better-constructed than the new soulless subdivisions, and yet, it's not modern in any sense of the word. Great.] I plug it into the wall and plug the three-prong power strip into it. But it won't go. I unplug it and look at it. It's got a defective slot in one of the prongs. Great. Thinking what a terrible idea this is, I take a fork and go to town on it. I try again, and instead of plugging in the computer, I cleverly plug in an inexpensive lamp.
No light.
I decide that I have shoved enough forks into electrical equipment today, and throw out the adapter. If it's a piece of shit I am not going to waste my time on it again, so it's going into the GARBAGE, where we usually don't manage to put our junk in this house with the result that we keep having to evaluate things again and again to remember that, oh right, they're garbage. CURSE my thrifty ancestors who have instilled in me the habit of keeping things for reuse without also passing on any of the talents that can transform trash into treasure!!
So I resume my search. I know the adapter I saw last night was not in my bedroom, because I didn't really go in there. That wasn't it. There was another one. A gray one. It was a new one, too. I saw it. Where did I see it?
Finally it strikes me that I should have seen my drawing tablet by now, in all this searching, but I haven't. It isn't on my desk after all. I cleaned my desk off. So it has to be... elsewhere. Uh. I check three or four Elsewheres. But I have no memory of the last time I touched it. I don't remember. I run out of the obvious Elsewheres.
For all intents and purposes, then, I do not have an adapter, and I do not have a drawing tablet. I cannot do what it was I wanted to do. All of the above was futile.
I have always wished I were the kind of person whose house is in order, who always knows where their possessions are and how many they have, and can produce them when they are called for. But I sort of don't believe that people like that really exist in real life.
Incidentally I have had to use my wall-mounted house telephone three times in the last two days to call my cellphone to figure out where I left it. I don't understand how people can leave their phones on silent mode, because I would not have a phone anymore if I did.
I promise my next LJ entry will be funny. Or, well, maybe not the next one. But one of these will not be whining. One of these days.
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no subject
Date: 2006-12-04 07:58 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-04 07:59 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-04 09:56 pm (UTC)I rarely need to call my phone anymore, but on Fridays my scouts lose my phone ALL THE TIME. The other night one of them was sitting in the backseat of my car and somehow lost the phone. We had to call it with another girl's cell phone.
Trevor, on the other hand, often has his phone on silence and loses it. This causes him great problems.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-05 03:44 pm (UTC)Get gas every time it's half full. I know that's a pain, but so is being stuck by the side of the road in this weather. And you'll never change Him.
The truly important gauge in a car is the heat gauge. I avoid buying cars which have only idiot lights. When the heat rises farther than it should, you have a genuine problem. This is the time, the only time, to stop where you are and get it towed. Engine lights are useless except for causing amusing panics.
My new cell phone is for nothing but my convenience in making calls when I'm out of the house. It lives in my coat pocket. Nevertheless, I have had to call it a couple of times.