I should be in the best mood ever if suffering and accomplishing mundane tasks really are what make me happy which I am pretty sure they do.I took a walk. Not a very long one but I've learned my lesson about that in this heat and oh god, it is so hot. It's still hot- over 90 degrees and it's almost seven o'clock in the evening. But after the walk I met Lily and Gibson and Maggie at the river and it was so beautiful there today. Also, exciting because someone had spied a small gator out by the lily pads and then later on, a snake was seen over by the dock and there was a guy there who truly did not look like the usual Jefferson County, Wacissa visitor in his dress or his demeanor and when the snake was seen and reported he asked, "Is this normal?"
"Hmmm..." we said.
We all know that there are always alligators in the rivers and lakes and sometimes even swimming pools around here but if we can't see them we can ignore them and generally, that works out just fine. As to the snakes- well, I'd never seen a snake there but I know without a doubt that there are plenty.
Oh Lord I'm hot. I haven't been cool all day except for the moments I dove into the river and then maybe for a little while after. The AC can't keep up with the heat and although it is vastly cooler in the house than it is outside, it's not exactly ideal.
Third world, boutique, bullshit problem.
And I know it.
I didn't stay at the river very long. I knew I had a lot of things to do here and so I came home and the first thing I did was to call Century Link. At first I thought maybe I'd gotten the rudest technician in the entire world. I gave her my explanation of the problem and then she asked me for my account number.
"I don't have it," I said.
"Why not?" she asked.
What the fucking fuck? Really? Why not?
Because I'm a normal person who doesn't keep her phone bill records around, that's why.
Finally she grudgingly accepted that I was legitimate because I gave her the phone number, which I was speaking on, and Mr. Moon's name as the account holder.
She then deigned to do some of that voodoo shit where they can tell the speed of your own personal modem from wherever they are in the universe and after that she was a much more polite person because YES GODDAMMIT I WAS RIGHT AND IT IS SLOW, SLOW, SLOW!
So. I was not a lying impostor trying to get someone to pay attention to my mythical phone line with its mythical problem for whatever bizarre nefarious reason someone might do that.
She tried to do some more voodoo and fix the problem from where she was (how is this possible?) and she couldn't do that so someone's coming tomorrow to hopefully fix the problem in real life and in real time and in reality or at least what passes for reality by popular agreement. Possibly only popular agreement between me and me but that's getting a little too philosophical or quantum physics-ish for anyone.
We ended on a cordial note although she did not follow the script and did not apologize fifteen times for my inconvenience and she also did not ask me at the end of the call if there was anything else she could help me with today which always makes me want to say, "Sure! Come on over and clean my house because boy, it sure does need it!"
I bet a lot of people say shit like that and I bet it's not that funny to the phone techs. Still, it is tempting. They leave themselves wide open with that one.
And then, instead of going and taking a good long nap with the fan blowing directly on me which is what I felt like doing, I ironed a bunch of shirts and finished watching Tales in the City which led to me dropping tears on the shirts as I ironed and I'm not kidding. And then I started watching the Martin Scorsese fake documentary film about Bob Dylan's Rolling Thunder Review because I'd watched all of the Tales in the City episodes but I hadn't finished ironing all the shirts.
I just don't even know what to think about this film.
I know that there is definitely real footage in it and I also know that some of the narrative is complete whimsical bullshit and that makes it a bit difficult to know what's real and what's not which, I suppose, is so Dylan.
I will say that he sure was beautiful back in his younger years. I'll watch the entire thing because that's part of my history and it's fascinating on the real level for me, at least.
Back to reality, aren't we?
And then, and THEN, I made the eggplant parmesan which took me about an hour and a half to get from the raw eggplant and tomato stage to the finished product in a casserole dish ready to go into the oven. It and a loaf of bread I also made are both in the oven already because I think my husband's going to leave me if I don't start serving his supper before 9 p.m.
Not really. He'd never leave me for that. I don't think.
I wonder what he would leave me for? I know I've tested his love consistently since November of 1983 and he's still here.
I am a pretty good cook though. That may explain some of it.
And I love him and he knows it.
So there you go- a mundane report about a mundane day from a mundane woman leading a mundane life.
I have a beautiful and completely NOT mundane picture that I took at the river today but despite my best efforts, I can't get it to upload here.
I sure hope that the guy who's coming tomorrow to fix this problem knows what he's doing.
I have to say that those guys usually do.
I remain optimistic despite all. Well. Sort of. Check in tomorrow to see if my optimism is unfounded or founded. Is that a word? Founded? I have no idea.