Cydniey Buffers (cydniey) wrote,
Cydniey Buffers

Major hates bitter stuff.

Oooh, way to start a day. Hump day. I tossed and turned until I was coherent and coordinated enough to stand up at 4:30. and got up and had a cigarette and coffee. Doc pulled up an hour early at 5. He had a massive oak dresser in the back of the truck. We brought it in. Then we went and got the companion piece. Done in white laminate and butcher's block with brushed steel handles. We put it in the truck, rescuing it from the rubbish pile.

Then we get home and I try to turn on the computer. It turns on fine, but my trackball doesn't work. I unplug it, as it is a USB thing. Still nothing. I restart the computer, nothing. I do everything I can think of. Then I pick up the track ball and take the ball out and look it over and still see nothing wrong. Until I put it down, and notice that the wire is very short. Upon careful inspection, yes, it has been chewed through. MAAAAAAAAJOOOOOOOOOOOOR!! That's $60! I can't afford to replace it! I'm using the infrared mousie from the drone laptop on the back of the Kindle as a mousepad. This is an untenable situation.

I can't do art or photo processing like this. I guess it was just meant to be. Like the audience participation on the art project. 410 viewers of the explanatory page. Nothing. No, "your poetry sucks", no, "this is a joke, right?", nothing at all. Crickets. I've only gotten feedback on my poetry to my face, and it led me to believe I was some sort of savant. Makes this all the harder to understand.

I can't talk to Doc about it because it's "just the stupid internet". That's what Kelli calls it, too. The don't realize, they both leave their houses on a daily basis. They may not like the human interaction they have, but they have human interaction. I don't. I have this box. So maybe it is stupid, but it is all I have. Yet another thing that people just don't get about me. Well, the two humans in my life. And the list grows.

Doc has been raining down hugs on me. It really makes me uncomfortable. I used to love his hugs. I just don't want to be touched. I don't want to be conversationally engaged, I'm glad he's taking a nap.

What am I going to do about the trackball? I guess nothing. Doc is already making a horrible noise about having to pay $140 for my doctor's appointment and whatever the cymbalta's going to be. My check went to water, trash, and rent, and one Burger King breakfast sandwich. I realized a couple of days ago, that I am not going to be able to be my own patron on this art project, so I added the materials I will need to my wishlist and now link to it from the page. It gives away part of it, but not all of it. It hints at some of it.

I can't believe that cat. I have to de-wire anything in his reach today. That is going to be fun, we have wires all over the place. I just don't want him to get zapped. So far, he has not chewed through anything with a strong current running through it. I don't know how to stop him. Oh wait, I know, get that stuff at the pet store that they hate the taste of and smear it on the cables and wires and such. Problem solved. Major hates bitter stuff.

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