Really? I mean, really?

Today was a court furlough day. I planned to spend it completing the second of seven phases in the project I have been assigned. I even hoped I might get started on the third phase and maybe get some work in on the novel. Nope. Not to happen.

Here's why:

Scanner/printer/copier arrives. I get said piece of wondrous tech out of the box. Shattered touch-screen. Blood begins to boil. Why package the thing this way? I need the scanner to fax my signed contract back.

I call Best Buy. Best Buy lets me hold for ten + minutes. Steam begins to trickle from my ears.

I get a sales rep, who tells me that he'll transfer me to customer service but adds that .com purchases must be returned through .com. I begin to burble, incandescent curses popping from my lips in superheated time to my pulse.

I wait another ten minutes, only to be handed back to Abe, the sales guy. I tell him my condition. He starts to show his teeth. I tell him I realize he is doing his best, and ask that he hand carry my call to the customer service people who are ignoring the phone. His teeth withdraw before he breaks them on my skin, and he takes care of business.

The customer service rep assures me I can return it in store and they have the scanner back in stock.

I go. Tiny customer service rep handles the return, asks if I want to get the new one off the shelf. I look at her. She probably weighs a mere ten pounds more than the scanner. I go, I get back. I am out the door.

Pressure slowly subsides as I listen to Muse on the way home.

I get home. I hook it up. I can print, just can't scan.

Really? I mean, really?

I check network, I do all sorts of things for two hours. It just doesn't want to work. Blood boiling, curses sputtering.

My daughter is being patient, and only asks ten times if I can play with her. I really want to, but I just have to get this done. She's such a sport, she doesn't even whine or pout. Dad is miserable enough.

Finally I remove the power from the router then plug the fucker back in. It works. Everything works. I email the scanned contract off.

I even have time to play Wii with Isabelle. Feeling a little Hitler, as I do:




I sat down after playing with her, feeding her, and putting her to bed. I finished the rough draft of the second phase and sent it off. I read Mark's post and watched the video.

Inspired, I wrote this.

All is right with the world, for now.