Saturday

I am grumpy. Just plain grumpy. I have been getting some minor repairs that have been sitting for months/years done. One would think that would make me happy. But NOOOO. The problem, therefore, must be linked to the computer. If there is anything that sets me off it is computer issues. The desk top is sick. Probably some stupid junk mail that I accidentally opened, but I don't know. What it is doing is not letting me delete things in my "in" box. There are a few junkers in there that I send to the junk file, but they keep reappearing as well. ARGHH!! It might not be so bad if I really needed viagra, but guess what, boys and girls? I don't need it, don't want it, and don't want to keep seeing it every time I access my mail box. AHA, says I, I know what I will do. I will access my mail via the laptop; delete aforementioned mail as well as all the mail I am finished with and can delete into cyberspace. Seemed like a great idea...but I can't get onto the internet. Not even if I plug into the modem and bypass the wireless. I CAN get "limited" internet via wireless. Apparently "limited" means I cannot get into my mail, so that is useless. I need to call pakistan and get it all straightened out with the wireless, but I just can't bear to be asking "pardon me?" over and over, and sitting on the phone for 2 hours minimum. Then there is Century Tel, who handles my DSL, blaming Linksys, who is my router and vice versa. Add another hour at least for that mess. Then there are the dogs. Like any two year old, they bark when I am on the phone. They want something that is buried in the toy box, or, as is the case now, Henry manages to get up on the grooming table and can't get back down. They sense my tension and feed it..."hey Mom, need some help, huh? huh? Can I help? Huh, what ya say? I'll help! No, don't pick her, cuz I want to help and I asked first. Are you listening? Mom? Mom! MOM!!!" and then I must again say, into the phone: "Pardon me? What did you ask? say again? No, I did not tell you to shut up, I was talking to the dog. Yes, indeed I am in Seattle. It is 4pm. It is raining. Oh really? Sunny and warm in Pakistan, eh? What's that? I know, I said eh. No I am not from Canada. it just fits and no other word works. Henry HUSH! No, I had no idea you once knew someone named Henry. I am talking to my dog..." Two hours pass rather, uhm, quickly (not). Then it is the dreaded, "I am going to put you on hold" click, dial tone. Two friggin hours just flushed down the toilet. Perhaps the next person who answers will speak a bit clearer English. Perhaps they will take pity on the poor dumb woman in America who can't get her computer to work right and talks Canadian. The one with the dog that won't shut up. I just know they have me on a "list" and when I call they give me to the new guy. It is an initiation ritual. I bet they even plant the bug in the viagra ad...just so I will help then initiate a new worker. I think I need to go out for a bit before I kill the dogs. I know they are only concerned for my safety, but there is no getting through to Henry that talking on the phone is not hazardous to my health. In about 2 minutes it may be hazardous to HIS.

Au revoir.