whatever comes to mind

Dang, this kind of textuality is just so wonderful!

Tough day head. My partner's youngest daughter and her three young children arrived at 10:30pm last night. The mom and two boys leave midday to not miss soccer. The girl will be joined by her aunt this afternoon, and we'll all be attending a party at my partner's sister's house Saturday – that would be the aunt of the aunt of the girl (aren't labels fun?).

But there will be many others at that shindig, requiring some sleeping over here Saturday night, meaning partner and I will be on an air mattress that night.

No one ever said family would easy.

I had additional intense dreams last night. Too complex to describe briefly, here, and I'm “working” today, so the guilt of doing this instead of that will interfere with the thought processes required to make significant amounts of text coherent, so you're just going to have to take my (fewer) word(s) for it.

Making the work situation more complicated is the need to lock the door behind me lest the Curious Georges and Curious Georgina come bursting in, and the fact my manager one one coworker are off work today, which my great American Work Sensibility interprets as opportunity to slough off a bit.

But I'm pretty ahead on projects anyway, so whatever.

So today began with awakening from what I thought was awake – but was actually a dream – into an awake that seemed to be a dream.

I mean literally, so profound was the confusion.

But, you know, from a mind perspective, is there really a difference?

Is this the dream?

Or are both characterizations inaccurate? Is there actually much more a continuum betwixt the two, except in one the characters more frequently insist they're awake? (Per what? Is there something “real” to hang the hat of that characterization on, or it it closer to repetitive self-hypnosis?)

Why couldn't my having written this have “happened” in a dream in which others are dreaming they're reading it?

And how is that really (again, from a mind perspective, whose re-presentation of “reality” is all we – as a mental character – can “know”) any different from it happening when we're all allegedly awake – apart from all us “awake” (but possibly dreaming) characters saying so enough that we couldn't be convinced otherwise?

So... I waiting the amount of time the debit card company recommended for my person information to become associated with the debit card, filled the shopping cart with the desired items, placed the order.. got the confirmation the order was placed.. no word on whether the debit card was processed (hoping no news is good news)...

Buuuuuuuuuuuuut... when looking at the amounts of the two orders, something seemed not quite right. It was somehow costing me more than when I placed the orders previously.. so... investigate.. to learn it's because the shipping charges defaulted to NOT ZERO, and I hadn't scrolled down to correct that...

Sooooooooooooo.. found a way to change that in the order it was affecting.. and that amount has apparently been removed...


Per my previous installment, I placed that Amazon order what I thought was correctly.

But then I received email saying the debit card denied payment.


So I got to waste more of my life on this happy horse shit, because it turns out that in addition to activing the card, I also needed to talk to someone at the card company to associate my name and address with the card for Amazon's sake... and then “wait up to an hour” for it to “take”...

Needless to say, I will not be happy while reading the next several articles that come my way praising our current state of technology....

I was the happy and grateful recipient of two Visa debit cards, each with different balances.

I finally figured out a few items to use the cards for, went through the effort to activate them, added them to my Amazon account, added the desired items to my cart, selected the card with the lesser amount, knowing that amount would be insufficient to cover the overall cost – but imagining that by 2019 the great and powerful Amazon would note the insufficiency and ask for an additional payment method (for me, the other debit card), and I'd be back to my job licketty split.


Instead, the order was accepted. So I knew I had some non-trivial pain and suffering ahead of me attempting to be proactive about rectifying the situation.

I wound up chatting with a customer service rep, who cancelled my order. Great!

Then I got those items back in my cart, but managed to place the order against the wrong card again... (yes, I am an idiot...)

So... I cancelled that (well, it was split into two orders, so I had to cancel both of them).. and started adding items back into the cart.. buuuuuuuuuuut.. when I got to the third item, I was told it was no longer available....... <the sound of gnashing of teeth>

Well, after a few tries it was available again (probably their own less than light-speed accounting due to my having apparently ordered that item twice.. perhaps the cancellations took a while to decrement the “number available” amount on their end...?). And I finally used the debit card that could cover the entire cost.

But that's not what I wanted to do, because now I've stranded $22.74 on that card, meaning my next purchase will need to be for that or less given one apparently cannot combine payment methods to make an Amazon purchase.

So it turns out recycling isn't the only form of rocket science available for immediate frustration in 2019....

God, I so love schizodefective pieces like this!

the ghost of eve is generally more compact, but we're talking heavy metal petal density weighing upon this here reader – the name alone seemingly containing an entire gender species (not that I'm expert on gender the way so many seem to be these days).

I took a serious crack at pondering What does corruption smell like?, and what came to mind was it depends on the quality of the deception aspect of the corruption: when poorly done, it smells like shit; when well done, it smells like cotton candy.

I'm with HelenSometimesHolly on recycling, but keep finding myself facing what to me is an even bigger issue: feeling alone in recycling.

Let's say we host a party. Invariably, the trash bin winds up with recyclables, and the recyclable bin winds up with trash. How could something so simple be seemingly unsolvable by even NASA's best scientists?

And the biggest offenders are my partner's eldest daughter and her husband, who seemingly haven't a recycling bone in their bodies, and by far drink more fluids from cans and bottles than anyone I've ever met. Their visiting includes an absolute guarantee I'm going to have to spend an hour+ sorting through the aforementioned bins, cleaning food/trash off recyclables, getting things in the right bins, and scouring my hands when done. It's honestly enough to make me cringe whenever I hear they're visiting.

And, yeah, of course I could ask them to be more thoughtful, but there's more than a few degrees of trepidation given it's my partner's daughter (who is seemingly incapable of doing wrong in her mother's eyes).

I guess I could also simply “let it go” – i.e. just do the damned work and STFU.

But it just strikes me as borderline impossible I'm still experiencing such at all. I lived in a state in the late 1980s that required recycling, and the duplex I was in quickly provided the proper bins, which – all these faithful recycling years later – led to the sorely incorrect belief that by now everyone must be down with the programme...

Anyone else remember when IBM was talking a fuckload of bullshit about “smarter planet”?

Well, I was there: Smarter Planet.

For all those who've ever worked level two support: They're Always A Client.

I mentioned song spoofs last installment... thought I'd share one (which might amuse any/all software development types out there): spaghetti code writer.