dragonlady7 (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
dragonlady7) wrote2019-02-27 01:36 pm
dragonlady7) wrote2019-02-27 01:36 pm
Entry tags:
cohendammerung
My coworker came in late today because he was addictively listening to Michael Cohen's testimony before Congress. "I almost called in," he said. "I can't stop. I need to know."
I said, well, it's probably being livestreamed somewhere. You could keep listening.
So he is! Of course he is. And that's fine.
Oh my god my blood pressure is through the roof, I can't listen to this. It's absolutely horrifying, and the old white men actually screaming are making me so upset.
I'm trying to find things that take me away from my desk. It's sort of working. I'm in the hallway just now eating lunch. I can still hear it but I can block it out enough to calm down a little.
It is so stressful.
Sigh. Anyway. The tech came this morning to look at our water heater, and determined that a condensation drain was improperly installed, which is why the heater frequently needs to be reset before it will turn on, and why on Sunday it suddenly belched out a huge puddle of water across the basement floor, which I discovered because it audibly dripped into the floor drain. So they're going to have to go away and come back with a diagnostic tool to reinstall that. Meanwhile, the tech did hook back up the oven downstairs that the installers had disconnected, and while they had trouble getting the pilots relit, they eventually determined that the reason the pilots weren't lighting is that it's got an electric ignition.
*eyeroll*
I missed a package from UPS and they now have this thing where they'll drop it at a designated drop point and you can go there and sign for it, and the drop point is a different place every time, which is weird. This time it's a convenience store... directly across the street from my favorite ice cream parlor... so my fat ass is absolutely getting a goddamn sundae after work and maybe that will fix my blood pressure, or at least help cut down on the cortisol stress hormone response I'm absolutely suffocating with.
I said, well, it's probably being livestreamed somewhere. You could keep listening.
So he is! Of course he is. And that's fine.
Oh my god my blood pressure is through the roof, I can't listen to this. It's absolutely horrifying, and the old white men actually screaming are making me so upset.
I'm trying to find things that take me away from my desk. It's sort of working. I'm in the hallway just now eating lunch. I can still hear it but I can block it out enough to calm down a little.
It is so stressful.
Sigh. Anyway. The tech came this morning to look at our water heater, and determined that a condensation drain was improperly installed, which is why the heater frequently needs to be reset before it will turn on, and why on Sunday it suddenly belched out a huge puddle of water across the basement floor, which I discovered because it audibly dripped into the floor drain. So they're going to have to go away and come back with a diagnostic tool to reinstall that. Meanwhile, the tech did hook back up the oven downstairs that the installers had disconnected, and while they had trouble getting the pilots relit, they eventually determined that the reason the pilots weren't lighting is that it's got an electric ignition.
*eyeroll*
I missed a package from UPS and they now have this thing where they'll drop it at a designated drop point and you can go there and sign for it, and the drop point is a different place every time, which is weird. This time it's a convenience store... directly across the street from my favorite ice cream parlor... so my fat ass is absolutely getting a goddamn sundae after work and maybe that will fix my blood pressure, or at least help cut down on the cortisol stress hormone response I'm absolutely suffocating with.
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I understand the obsessive desire to know what's going on, but show some basic courtesy when you do it or don't do it at all.
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(Like, I refuse even to have political conversation on public transport, and will explicitly redirect my companions if they start it. It's just too stressful to do where people can't escape it.)
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He offered to turn it off, but I knew it would drive him nuts to not listen, so I just tried to find ways to not hear. When I came back from lunch he turned it off right away and was like "ok you're going to die if I keep going and I don't have to."
We agree on most political stuff, so sometimes it's fine and we do listen to things together. But it's a Lot, today. It's just. A lot.
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I have some chocolate though.
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Unfortunately, it was too snowy, so we didn't. So I don't have any.
Oh well.
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And I don't feel bad any more about switching stations any time they play audio of Donald speaking. At this point the mere sound of his voice sets off a Pavlovian disgust reaction.
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Part of it, sickeningly, is that he has an accent very similar to my grandmother's. She was Old Manhattan, back when Manhattan was working-class, but a lot of the artifacts cross over to Queens, and many of my cousins live there now. I can't listen to my beautiful, gentle cousin's accent say those hateful, horrible things.
("It's harrible," Gram used to say, "just harrible!" and then when Tom Brokaw said "Good night, America," she'd answer him fondly, "Goodnight, Tawm!") (She's been dead since '02. Her dad drove a cab back when cabdrivers could afford Manhattan rents.)