The Value Of The Second Opinion

 Scott and I have been homeowners for just about two years now.  One of the big differences between owning and renting is dealing with repairs.  In theory, as a renter, the landlord is supposed to fix things for free (in practice, this seems to vary considerably.  I never had a problem getting someone to come and take a look at whatever was broken, but getting them to actually fix it was something else!).  Now, we have to find repair technicians and pay.  The upside to paying is that they generally will actually fix problems because they want us to be happy.  But not always, as it turns out.

Shortly after we moved in to our condo, we signed up for a program with a local company that deals in both HVAC and plumbing.  With this program, we get two HVAC inspections and one plumbing inspection per year.  We also get a discount on parts and labor, as well as progressively larger discounts on new hot water heaters and HVAC units depending on the number of years we spend in the program.  Our thought in doing this was that neither of us know anything about either HVAC or plumbing, and we wanted a professional to look at both systems regularly to prevent major problems that could be brewing.

One relatively minor problem we've had since the beginning is that our hot water heater runs out of hot water pretty quickly.  This becomes more of an issue on mornings when we're both trying to get to work and take showers back-to-back.  Whoever takes the second shower definitely gets the short end of the stick.

Last year, when we had our plumbing inspection, I asked the plumber about this.  He drew up an estimate for a diagnostic that would cost several hundred dollars and a new hot water heater, which would cost even more.  He told me that I could have the diagnostic done, but that if the hot water heater couldn't be repaired, it would just be money down the drain (haha), and I'd end up buying a new hot water heater anyway.  His take was that I should just skip to the new hot water heater.  I told him I'd think about it.  We did discuss replacing the hot water heater over the past year, but due to my employment "disruptions" and the cost, we decided it was best to put it off.

Fast forward to this year's plumbing inspection, which we had today.  A different plumber came out this time, someone who had replaced parts in both toilets when they had crapped out (haha).  We asked him about the hot water heater, and he told us that that it was likely that either an element or a thermostat was out.  He said he could run a diagnostic, and that he recommended that we just replace all the elements and thermostats at once since they were all likely the same age and would likely all need to be replaced in short order.  And...the kicker is he did all of this for less money that last year's plumber estimated just for the diagnostic!

It's uncomfortable to have to conclude that last year's plumber was trying to fleece us, but it's hard to come up with an alternative explanation.  It probably didn't help that Scott wasn't home for this last year, and I'm a woman.  I also realize that last year's plumber asked me first thing whether I'd had a plumbing inspection before, which in retrospect makes me think he was trying to figure out what he could get away with.  In any case, the experience has reminded me of the value of getting multiple opinions before shelling out large sums of money.  After talking to today's plumber, I feel that I better understand the hot water heater, too.  I hope that knowledge will serve me well if anyone tries to pull a similar move in the future.

Thoughts On Power Outages

 During thunderstorms following unseasonably hot weather, we lost power last night.  This power outage lasted several hours.  I've experienced longer power outages before, but I realized while sitting in the dark last night that it had been a number of years since a power outage had caused inconvenience for me beyond having to reset the clocks.  With that, I bring you the various epiphanies I had last night, with the (possibly unrealistic) hope that I won't be repeating the experience anytime soon.

1. In spite of my hopes, I (and you) might experience more frequent power outages.  I'm no meteorologist and I know next to nothing about electricity.  However, I do know from life experience that power outages often happen during storms, which are increasing in both frequency and severity.  Having grown up in North Carolina, I'm no stranger to summer thunderstorms, but I'm often struck and how much more violent storms seem now than they did when I was a child.  So in my mind, it stands to reason that more frequent and severe storms may lead to more frequent power outages.  Yet one more reason--on top of so many already--to take meaningful action on the climate.

2. Hand-cranked devices rule, battery-operated devices drool (and leak battery acid).  I connected some dots last night.  We've had battery-operated flashlights we've had to throw away because they've gotten horribly sticky, apparently for no reason.  The same thing happened last night with a hand-cranked radio with battery back-up.  I hadn't used it since losing power during Hurricane Sandy.  Well, we tried to use it last night, but it was incredibly sticky (and also had stopped working) and I had a lightbulb moment that the stickiness was probably coming from batteries that had long ago corroded.  Fortunately, we had one hand-cranked flashlight and one hand-cranked lantern, which were delightfully un-sticky and worked quite well.  If you're considering an impulse purchase today, one of those wouldn't be a bad way to go.

3.  Pets aren't happy about the power outage, either.  At least Stella wasn't.  The last apartment we rented before buying our condo had one of those climate control systems where heat and AC couldn't coexist and they had to switch back and forth with the seasons.  Of course, with weather patterns becoming less predictable, this invariably led to lengthy spells of discomfort while the management tried to decide if the hot/cold spell was some sort of anomaly or a true change in seasons.  Stella used to get pretty grumpy during the hot spells when we didn't have AC, so it's not surprising that she was unhappy last night when we had no AC to alleviate three days of temperatures over 90 degrees.  She spent much of the night meowing loudly, possibly thinking that Scott and I were just being dense and if she could only be loud enough we might turn on the AC so we could all be comfortable.

4.  Sitting in the dark makes you tired.  I was struck at how early I became drowsy, sitting in the dark, even with a couple of light-emitting devices.  Of course, falling asleep in bed was another story, due to it being hot and stuffy and certain cats complaining bitterly!

My Phone Is Trying To Censor Me

 The other day, while texting Scott, I tried to type a four-letter word.  While this word would technically be considered "bad," it's not one of the words that's particularly likely to offend most people.  My phone autocorrected what I typed to "dawn."

Of course, I deleted dawn and retyped my intended word.  I tried this a few times, only to have my phone autocorrect it back to dawn each time.  I was forced to give up on my intended profanity.

It made me wonder how often the word dawn appears in text messages.  I personally can't recall ever texting the word dawn, and I don't often hear it in spoken conversations, either.  Maybe all the night owls of the world swear when dawn arrives?  Thoughts and ideas welcome!

Sunglasses Are The New Shoes

 Lest anyone become alarmed, (a) I will not be dispensing fashion advice on this blog, and (b) I am not advocating that anyone wear sunglasses on their feet.  

I've maintained for a long time that no article of clothing can make me nearly as miserable as shoes.  Ill-fitting shoes rub blisters and put pressure on the bottoms of feet.  If you're already out walking, you have no recourse as each step becomes increasingly agonizing.  No other article of clothing comes close in my opinion, but I'm starting to think of sunglasses as shoes-lite in terms of the aggravation and discomfort they cause.

I didn't wear sunglasses regularly until the year I spent in Syria (between 2004 and 2005).  I bought an inexpensive pair of sunglasses with wraparound frames to take with me, and I finally understood the hype about sunglasses--it really is more comfortable to not have a strong, unfiltered sun in your eyes!  I wore these sunglasses for years, though they frames were quite rickety even when they were new (I actually had them repaired in Syria because a screw came out).

I tried at some point after returning to the US to get a pair of sunglasses with less rickety frames.  I got a pair, but then found that the arms of the glasses dug into my head and gave me a headache.  I decided to take my chances with the rickety frames.

Several years ago, I had a flexible spending account funds that I needed to use or lose, so I got a pair of prescription sunglasses.  I liked these a lot. The frames were more solid than the pair I took to Syria with me and the glasses were comfortable to wear.  The one problem was that if anything, they were a little loose, always threatening to slide off my nose or the back of my head.  Despite their escape tendencies, I managed to hold on to them until a couple of weeks ago when one of the arms broke.  I'm not sure what caused it to break, but decided it was beyond repair and I would need a new pair.

While I hemmed and hawed over what type of sunglasses to get, I found the old pair I had taken with me to Syria.  The frames are as rickety as ever, and the hinges were getting caught in my hair when I pushed the sunglasses on top of my head.  I hadn't remembered that "feature" of them.  I decided to speed up my search for a new pair.

I splurged a little and ordered a well-known brand of sunglasses on sale.  They have wraparound frames, which I like, and fit very securely to my face, lessening the chance that they'll slid off somewhere.  But, as I discovered while taking a walk on a hot day, they fit so securely that sweat pools around my eyes and doesn't evaporate when I wear them.  It reminded me of trying on a pair of shoes that feels comfortable in the store, but then rubs my feet raw as soon as I wear them out of the house.  I can't really return them at this point, and I feel slightly bamboozled.

I've ordered a cheaper pair of sunglasses with non-wraparound frames.  These won't provide the sun protection for the outer corners of my eyes, but I imagine they will allow enough air circulation for my eye sweat to evaporate.  Much like with shoes, maybe I just can't have it all with my sunglasses.

The Cliche Of The Lost Sock

 So many jokes have been made about missing socks, especially the notoriously hungry dryers that eat them.  However, the lost sock joke is on us right now.

Hardly a week goes by in our new place without Scott or I having to search for a lost sock.  Sometimes the missing sock is found clinging to other clothing, which, or course, could happen anywhere.  But part of the problem has to do with our current laundry configuration.  

We have a small stackable washer and dryer that sits in a small space sandwiched between the wall of a closet and our hot water heater.  The small size means that we do smaller and more frequent loads of laundry, which means that sometimes we'll find the "missing" sock in our next load.  Socks also sometimes fall by the side of the washer/dryer unit.  It's hard to see when this happens, and retrieving these lost socks involves the use of a flashlight and one of those grabber tools (which, tellingly enough, the previous owners were kind enough to leave for us!).  

I lost a sock yesterday.  Unfortunately, it's a sock I like.  In recent years, I've upgraded my socks, and no longer buy the sorts of multipacks that you can find at places like Target and Walmart.  My feet are more comfortable with the nicer socks, but naturally, losing a more expensive sock seems like a bigger problem than losing a cheap sock which probably didn't have long for the world anyway. I looked through my hamper and carefully checked all the clothing that went into the dryer with it.  Nothing.  I looked along the sides of the washer/dryer with a flashlight and still didn't see anything.

In desperation, I started running the grabber tool along the sides of the washer/dryer to see if I felt anything soft.  I did!  I grabbed it and pulled it up...only to find that it was a sock that didn't belong to either me or Scott!  It was a colorful sock with owls printed on it, the sort I would remember if either of us had a pair.

I'm hoping my sock will turn up soon, so that I can use it, but I'm cheered to think that it's probably not lost forever, at least.

A Gift Finally Enjoyed

 Over 40 years ago, on the day I was born, one of my aunts and her then-husband bought me a bottle of wine.  They used the label on the bottle as a sort of gift tag, so it was easy to distinguish from any other bottles of wine my parents may have had around.  I think this is a clever gift for a baby, provided the parents have space to store it.  It spent decades tucked away in my parents' linen closet.

The one funny thing that nobody could have predicted is that I'm not much of a drinker.  I'm not a complete teetotaler, since I will drink, but I have a hard limit of one drink per occasion.  Often, on occasions when I drink, I'll do something like have half a beer and let Scott have the other half.  I like the taste of some alcoholic drinks, but they're not as much of a treat for me as some other things (like chocolate!).  I also don't seem to get the buzz that most people get from drinking.  And, even at my advanced age, I've never truly been drunk.  My recollection is that nobody remembered the bottle of wine by the time I turned 21 (which happened when I was studying in Mexico anyway), and even if anyone had, I wouldn't have necessarily made a beeline for it because being able to drink legally just wasn't that big of a deal for me.

It did resurface at some point, though, and my parents brought it up a couple of times when I visited.  Finally, maybe a year or two ago, they asked me to take it with me when I left.  I took it, and it sat on my kitchen counter.

Then we decided to move.  There is nothing quite like moving to make me thin out my belongings, and I decided that this bottle of wine shouldn't move with us.  So, I decided to give it a try...and it tasted really good!  I was surprised by how good it tasted to me, since as I said, alcohol is typically not a big treat for me.

We've been drinking small amounts of it with the chocolate we eat for dessert most nights.  The flavors go well together, and it's fun to think of people picking out a bottle of wine for a new baby.  I'm glad I'm getting to enjoy this gift at long last, after all these decades.

Pandemic Daze: The Triumphant Arrival Of The Chinese Toilet Paper!

Remember the early days of the pandemic, when a few people were hoarding massive quantities of toilet paper for the sheer joy of ensuring that nobody else had any?  As I wrote at the time, I wasn't initially concerned because timing had worked out so that I had just purchased a 24 roll pack of TP right before people started panic buying.  But as time went on, and we didn't see any appear on store shelves, we became more concerned.  At that point in time, we started looking online more regularly.  Scott lucked into buying some TP made by American brands and shipped from somewhere in the US that arrived reasonably quickly.  But before that happened, I ordered an unfamiliar brand of TP from China.

This TP was slated to arrive anywhere from April 24 to May 15.  That window passed.  Several weeks thereafter, I contacted the seller, asking for my money back.  The seller got back to me, and essentially pleaded for me to not demand a refund, saying that they had given my package to the international courier a long time ago, and citing imminent financial ruin if they had to refund my money.  They promised to send me a second package of TP in return.  I grudgingly agreed.  I didn't know if their tale of financial woes was legitimate or not, but given the state of things, it seemed plausible.

Many more weeks passed, but this long-awaited TP finally arrived on Monday!  I was surprised when I saw the package.  Given that it came from China, I couldn't think what else it could be, but it seemed awfully small for 24 rolls of TP.  Then I opened it, and found 24 weird, adorably tiny rolls.

Here is a picture of one of the rolls next to one of our regular rolls for scale:

And check out how large its cardboard tube is:

If nothing else, this Chinese toilet paper is providing me with good entertainment, and I think the individually wrapped rolls will make halfway decent packing material for our probable impending move.  After that, I suppose we could try using it for its intended purpose, or maybe distribute the rolls as pandemic gag gifts.  Either way, I got a kick out of receiving a package I had long ago given up on.

Do This, Don't Do That, Can't You Read The Sign?

Our apartment complex has an online forum where people can communicate with all the residents.  Usually people use this forum to try to sell things before moving out, but sometimes people use the forum to complain.  Over the past several months, there have been a number of complaints about people smoking marijuana, ranging from people being upset about the stench to actual respiratory problems that are exacerbated by smoke of any kind.  We've been fortunate that none of our immediate neighbors seem to be marijuana smokers, but I do believe this is a problem since I've smelled marijuana in the courtyard.

Anyway, our complex's management--ever cognizant of their role in making the community a pleasant place to live--took immediate action!  Clearly, this sign was what the U.S. war on drugs has been missing all these decades:

Honestly, this sign made me laugh when I first saw it.  Throughout all the years--and all the permutations of marijuana laws in different locations--I have never actually seen a marijuana leaf crossed out on a sign.  Also, I would have thought that the "no smoking" and the crossed out cigarette would by default imply that one is also not allowed to smoke joints.  Or are they also trying to prevent people from eating marijuana brownies in the stairwell for fear of the crumbs fueling an army of well-fed, high mice?

It occurred to me that I don't envy the leasing agents who are taking people on tours of this building while these signs are decorating every door to the stairs.  I'm not sure I would have rushed to sign a lease if these signs had been up when I toured here four years ago.  At least in theory, though, I suppose that fewer no tenants might mean fewer pot smokers to pursue, and maybe that's the extent of their strategy. 

That Feeling Of Instant Deflation

I went to my local Safeway today to pick up a few things.  Apparently, they have some sort of Monopoly sweepstakes going on now because the cashier gave me a handful of game pieces after I paid.  They were of the variety where you tear the paper at the perforated edges and then open up the pieces.  I did this when I got home because who can resist the idea of becoming the next supermarket sweepstakes gazillionaire?

AND I WAS AN INSTANT WINNER!!!!

Oh.  Of my choice of Formula 409, Pine Sol, Tilex, or Liquid Plumr. 

Well, my bathroom sink frequently backs up, so I guess by winning Liquid Plumr, I may have won the equivalent of four or five bucks.  You just have to look for that silver lining sometimes.

They Take Me Back, Alright

Like many people, I consider music to be an important part of my life.  I listen to music to celebrate good times, relieve stress, and process my emotions.  As a result, I associate certain songs with certain times in my life.  This is all well and good when the associations are positive (or at least neutral), but what about the times when songs take us back to things we'd rather leave in the past?

Hold Your Head Up by Argent:  I discovered this song on YouTube after being laid off in the summer of 2017.  And really, what better song to find during a time of discouragement and uncertainty?  I listened to it at least daily for a while to encourage myself to stay hopeful.  The problem was that in effect, this song became my layoff song.  It was months after I started working again before I could listen to it again.  And even now, while I enjoy the song again, it still takes me back to the emotional roller coaster that was that time in my life.

Last Christmas by Wham:  Fortunately, I never liked this song anyway.  It's always been one of those aggravating features of the holiday season.  However, around Christmas time in 2011, I was spending a lot of time in doctor appointments, having spent the previous several months with strange and unsettling symptoms that were growing worse.  My physician at the time was really wonderful in many regards--she never rushed anyone through their appointments and was very thorough.  But this meant that if you were seeing her towards the end of the day, she was likely to be very behind in her schedule, and you were going to spend a lot of the time in the waiting room.  This song was played very frequently in her waiting room during that time, and as a result, this song is not only annoying, it also reminds me of being sick.

Take It To The Limit by the Eagles:  This association isn't as bad as the previous two.  I took AP calculus as a senior in high school, and it was a struggle the entire year.  I eventually decided I needed an official song to pump myself up for the AP calculus exam and decided that since this song
had the word "limit" in the title, it was a natural fit (and if you don't believe me, try to come up with a song with the word "derivative" in the title).  Everything turned out well in the end--I somehow passed the exam and didn't have to take calculus in college.  So while this isn't an unpleasant memory per se, I still think of this song as the calculus song. 

Wishing everybody happy times to celebrate with good songs!

Can't We Stretch Out The Magic Of Halloween?

Complaints about stores and their schedule of displaying/selling holiday items are pretty much a cliche at this point.  So I never really thought I would add to the chorus...but I will, since I feel mildly inconvenienced by it right now.

I've been seeing cute little pumpkins for sale for weeks.  Every week, I've been tempted to buy one, but I haven't because there is no shortage of clutter in my apartment, and I didn't have a good enough reason to justify buying one.  But then I decided that one of those pumpkins would be a cool addition to a fall-themed activity I was planning for one of my clients.  I decided to buy one today.

Except that there were none to be found in my supermarket.  In fact, all traces of Halloween had vanished, replaced with a mix of Thanksgiving and Christmas stuff.  It never occurred to me that all the pumpkins would be gone, since (a) Halloween was less than a week ago, and (b)I thought people who liked table centerpieces would want cute little pumpkins for their Thanksgiving decorating.

Well, lesson learned.  My client will have to see a line drawing of a pumpkin, and in the future, I'll recognize little pumpkins as the precious, fleeting commodity that they are.

Spring Breaking In The Cold

Scott and I made a trip to Vermont last week, over his spring break.  We did something similar last year, but his break fell later in the year then, so it seemed somewhat more spring-y then.  We had fun this year, though, in spite of the remnants of snow.  And there is something to be said about having a spring break somewhere where you're pretty sure nobody is filming the next installment of Girls Gone Wild.

Middlebury wanted to keep its residents safe.  Good thing--those icicles have been known to kill people!

Montpelier had an ice skating rink in front of its state capitol building!

But alas, safety considerations prevented anyone from using it.  As a native of North Carolina, I have to ask:  When is the ice ever safe?

In Burlington, we saw seagulls standing on a patch of ice in Lake Champlain.

I'm relieved to say that while there was snow on the ground in Vermont, none actually fell while we were there.  It's been an odd winter, with plenty of late season winter storms to go around.  I think the season has truly changed in our neck of the woods, as we were greeted with this beautiful spring scene when we returned home.

Airport Epiphanies

Generally, I think that viewing other people as individuals, rather than representatives of some group, is a sound idea.  Don't judge a book by it's cover, you know what happens when you assume, etc.  However, I sometimes often fail to live up to my idealized vision of myself, and in the interest of self-improvement, I'm coming clean about my failure to see one group of people in particular as individuals:  Other People at the Airport (henceforth OPA)

OPA are nothing but obstacles to things I want in the airport.  When they're ahead of me in the security lines, I just know they haven't flown since sometime in the 1990's and will be completely clueless about all things TSA.  They will have worn knee-high lace-up boots and scattered twenty containers of liquid toiletries throughout their carry-on, rather than putting them in a quart-sized bag.  They will also hog all of the bins.  Because of them, I will miss my flight, or at least not have time to buy food before it.

When OPA get coffee in the airport, I just know they will spend ten minutes crafting the perfect order.  This will spiral into even more time as the barista stops everything to make said specialty order.  They will cause me to forgo my beverage or miss my flight.

I can't speak for male OPA, but female OPA are problematic even in the restrooms.  When they get ahead of me in line, I just know they will inexplicably park themselves in the stall for the next twenty minutes, and probably pee on the toilet seat before finally leaving.

And of course we know that once we finally get on the plane, it's those awful OPA who have hogged all of the overhead bin space.

I laughed when I realized how I was generalizing about all OPA, but then I realized...to someone else, I am OPA, the imagined obstacle between the airport and the final destination.  In the future, I'll try harder to be nice in the airport so as to improve the image of our downtrodden group.

I Think The Calendar Misled Me

I thought it was spring, but this is by far the most snow we've gotten this year.  I won't complain, though, since it gave me a day off.  My rule for winter weather is that it either needs to be eventful enough to get me out of doing something (usually that something is going to work at this point in my life), or it shouldn't happen at all.  I've never really bought into the idea of snow being beautiful, and spend a lot of time griping when it makes my commute cold and slippery.  It's been a very odd winter here, and I wouldn't necessarily rule anything out, but I have to think this will be our last major (I am fully aware that this term is relative) snowstorm of the year.

One Person's Trash Is Another Person's Treasure

I'm going to be deliberately vague about the circumstances surrounding this story, but I've been giggling about it ever since it happened, so I wanted to share.

I'm part of an organization that hosted an event catered by a local deli.  When this deli delivered the food, it included a ginormous container of lemon wedges.  Seriously, they must have cut up five or six lemons to fill the container they provided.  In my mind, this was an excessive quantity, especially considering that they were meant to go with a mere gallon of iced tea.  Suffice to say, we had a great many lemon wedges left over.

After this event, I was working with a couple of other people to triage the remaining food.  I asked them what they wanted to do with the lemon wedges, and wasn't surprised when they told me to toss them.  However, maybe a minute or so later--after I had already turned my attention to some of the other remaining food--someone who's part of the organization but wasn't part of this event piped up that she would like to have the lemon wedges.

I can see speaking up for something like sandwiches or a fruit plate, but lemon wedges?  Something that combines inexpensiveness, ease of preparation, and lack of palatability in the absence of some other food item?  Doesn't asking for a leftover container of lemon wedges pretty much cement your reputation as an excessively frugal eccentric?  I think if I had wanted something like leftover lemon wedges, I would have tried to abscond with them quietly for fear of drawing too much attention to my idiosyncrasies.

When I broke the bad news that I had already deep-sixed this valuable item, this person just gave me a dirty look and walked away. 

Am I a wasteful person who just committed the food equivalent of blowing my nose on dollar bills?  Have I made an enemy for life by throwing out a container of lemon wedges?  Was I just dealing with an extreme case of someone taking life's lemons and hoping to make lemonade?  Whatever the case, it was worth the entertainment it brought me.

The Spectacles We Create For Others To Enjoy

I lost my gloves on Tuesday.  Usually, when I lose something, I don't know how I lost it.  I do this time, though.  I was making a mad dash for the Metro, and after the doors closed behind me, I realized my gloves were no longer in my pocket.  My mad dash was all for the lofty goal of...getting to work five minutes earlier?  I don't understand myself sometimes.

It occurred to me later that I was probably a pretty entertaining sight to people on the platform.  Imagine me doing a completely graceless sprint toward the closest open door, leaping onto the train, gloves flying out of my coat pocket.  I hope I at least gave someone a good laugh on a workday morning. 

And I hope someone is making good use of those gloves.

Whyyyyyy?!

Tomorrow begins my fifth consecutive semester of taking classes.  Fortunately for me, I'll have only one class this semester (as opposed to the two I've taken for the past three semesters), and it'll be online.  So no more late night slogs back home from campus!

The instructor for this semester's course has already given us an assignment to complete by the start of the semester.  I'm going to be deliberately vague about details about the class (you know, in case the instructor reaches the end of the internet, finds my blog, and makes the connection between it and me).  But...this assignment was all about her, not at all about the subject matter.  I'm serious.  We had to look for answers to questions like where she went to school, titles and synopses of her thesis and dissertation, where she works now, and her research interests.  I'm very protective of my free time, and this seemed like a massive waste of it, particularly before the semester even began.

So, was there a pedagogical purpose to this assignment that I'm either too dense or too cranky to understand?  Or--as I fear--does this indicate that I'll spend the semester trying to manage a professorial ego trip?  I'm sure I'll find out soon.

Online Shopping Mystery: The Shower Rod

I do a lot of my shopping online because crowded stores exhaust me and because there is something to be said for being home in my pajamas.  Most of the time, this works out pretty well, with some interesting exceptions.

Earlier this month, I ordered a lamp, hand cream, and make-up remover from Target.com. The lamp arrived by itself.  Shortly thereafter, I received an email that the other items were delayed due to the recent winter storm. 

In my building, any packages that are too large to fit in our mailboxes are collected at the front desk.  We then receive an email when we have a package to pick up.  When I got an email about a package today, I assumed it would be my hand cream and make-up remover.  My heart sank when the guy at the front desk went to the room where the freakishly large packages are stored.  I couldn't think what I would have ordered that would need to be in that room, and I didn't feel like lugging a large box upstairs.  He emerged with a skinny package about four feet long.  I tried to discreetly check the shipping label to make sure I wasn't getting someone else's stuff.

Nope, it was addressed to me.  And it was a shower rod.  Something that I never ordered, and do not need, considering that I live in an apartment.  Our apartment management is by no means perfect, but they did equip every apartment with a shower rod.

I chatted online with someone on target.com, who had very little insight as to why I had received a shower rod.  I suggested that the shower rod was perhaps sent by mistake instead of my hand cream and make-up remover.  The employee accepted that, generously (ha!) told me I could keep the shower rod, and processed a refund for the hand cream and make-up remover that I didn't receive.

I know that anyone could order a shower rod, but I'm enjoying imagining that it was a burly man who enjoys home improvement projects, and that he is now the recipient of my hand cream and make-up remover.  In the meantime, I have this surprise shower rod.  Any creative ideas about what to do with a shower rod, when your shower already has one?

The Rudeness Trap

Thursday evening is one of the two evenings per week that I have class this semester.  For various reasons, I've had a longer than usual stretch of time today between leaving work and starting class.  I decided to hole up in the student union and work on a statement of purpose for a grad school application.

I was deep in thought, staring at my laptop screen when two people who appeared to be undergraduates approached me.  After a lead-up of them telling me their names, asking me my name, telling me how random their approaching me was, and admitting that they didn't know whether I was spiritual or not, they cut to the chase and invited me to join them at a meeting of their bible study group.  I had an ironclad excuse not to go:

"Oh," I told them.  "I'll actually be in class when your meeting starts."

But then--and here comes the trap--one of them asked me if I would have been interested in attending if I hadn't had class.

To be clear, I have no objection whatsoever to religious group meetings of any kind.  But it's not really my thing.  I prefer to keep my religious/spiritual beliefs private, and shared spiritual beliefs are not what draws me to other people.  I didn't explain any of this.

"Ummm...." I said.  "Probably not.  But thank you very much for inviting me."

I won't lose sleep over this encounter, but I am sort of wondering what one does in that sort of situation.  Is it a thing now for people to approach strangers and invite them to meetings?  Was there a more tactful way I could have answered the question?  Should we all just be brutally direct in responses to such questions?

Maybe I should just try to look really mean while I'm working in public places.

Car Decal Mystery

Today while I was riding the bus to work, I looked out the window and saw a noteworthy decal on a car in the next lane.  It was a break from the usual political/ideological/sports/stick figure family stickers and decals I usually see.  It had the following simple phrase:  I pooped today.

Questions have been swirling around in my mind all day:

• Did some little kid win this decal as an award for finally being potty-trained?
• Or is some adult kindly lowering the achievement bar for the rest of us?
• Assuming that the owner of this decal isn't constantly removing and replacing the decal in response to his/her current defacatory status, could the phrase "I pooped today" be considered a promise to continue pooping on a daily basis?
• Am I just being extremely insensitive about a constipation epidemic that's been going on right under my nose?

It's terrible to start out the week in such a state of confusion.