We moved in. Unfortunately, moving in is only half the fucking battle (or however the phrase goes).
Did you know wood floors are nearly impossible to clean? Also if Pinesol says it’s ok for wood floors, it’s not. I have a small patch in the corner of the bedroom to prove it.
The day we were moving in a girl from my team came up to borrow a bike case and I was having trouble getting her calls, because I don’t know my new phone’s ring yet and it’s doing this weird thing with voicemail where it won’t give me my voicemail until I have a cooling off period first. So, I tell her ‘oh, I’m sorry, I’m having trouble with my phone.’ And she said, ‘that’s ok. it’s the country out here.’
Steve and I were sitting at a Panera at the time, next to Kohl’s. It’s not like it was a Walmart. Have you been to the country.
Then, she told me our place was rustic.
I guess she saw a deer or something.
Because I spend all day writing on my computer right now for work I really have no desire to write about myself after that.
Also, this week was kind of an off week for me. But not in an interesting way.
So here is a random story:
I was tutoring this girl from Marin Catholic (this private school…um, duh) for the last 6 or 7 months. Which was fine and I didn’t have any problems with her. But the last time I was tutoring her, before I started the new job and had to quit, etc, I was supposed to meet her at her school.
Now, I tutored this girl a few hours a week for more than half a year. I know what she looks like.
But I pulled up at the school and couldn’t figure out which one was her. All the girls looked the same. And the school doesn’t have a uniform, at least not of the school-enforced type. It was insane.
Here’s a slightly more exciting story:
Last night, Steve and I were driving to dinner with friends and I pulled out of the shopping center in front of this oncoming car. I pulled out giving him plenty of room, but he was going so, so fast that I guess he had to brake or something. And he was not happy about that, because I looked back and he was all kinds of flipping me off.
So, I started braking more. Really, really slowly.
Which was fine, until we turned the corner onto a bigger than two-lane road and he pulled in front of us. And slowed down (although he couldn’t even bring himself to slow down to a point that I cared).
Then, he pulls ahead and I figure we’re done with this little game. Until he slams on the brakes. Suddenly. In the middle of the road. Both of us going like 35mph.
I don’t have super amazing reflexes, but this the second time in a week I’ve had to slam on the brakes and missed hitting someone/something by an inch. I slammed them on so hard our beer fell over in the back seat and sort of exploded.
And, although all my initial preservation instincts took over to avoid dying, part of me was like ‘really? you have a super fancy car. I’m missing a bumper. do you want to play this game? really??’
Lesson here: do not fuck with people on the road unless you are ready to escalate that shit to a crazy level.
Also, tomorrow is my birthday. Happy quarter-century!