see, it’s days like this that make remember why i keep this site up. i’m laying in bed, too pissed and tired to even think about the day i have tommorow.
it’s time to vent.
stephen king said he used to write about murders so he wouldn’t commit them himself.
and i’ll say this about that.
today im enjoying a pretty decent thursday. i lay in my bed, almost noon now, more hungover then you can imagine, after being woken up at roughly 7am by ian and brooks, who is now back in town. i finally pull myself out of the sucidial downward spiral and walk into the living room to check the cell phone messages.
i install some programs on the newly formatted machine and kinda wait for work to come to me. i do some troubleshooting, send a few emails and then im sitting there reading fark when bam, all the screennames sign off.
troubleshooting begins as i check all 5 computers, all offline. i look at the modem, all the lights off. then i jump to the next step of troubleshooting. i remember the conversation i had with a timewarner tech roughly a week ago about how timewarner is doing “network cleanup”. he sees the rat’s nest of cables at our pole and says “im calling a manager”. I lol’d and went back inside.
now i’m not on aim anymore.
i run outside, barefoot, wearing blue pants and a blue and gray camo shirt, to see a white ford pickup pulling off. blazing on the side of his truck says “contractor of timewarner communications”.
outsourced hit men.
i flag him down like my wife has just been hit by a bus. arms in the air, in front of his truck, he can’t go around me.
and i quote.
“when is the internet coming back on?”
“do you have a bill?”
“yup, got it about a week ago”
“guess that’s your problem”.
and drives off.
my middle fingers come up and i entertain the thought of chasing after him in my car but i’d have to run all the way inside and get my keys.
no big deal, just a mixup, time to call timewarner.
it takes over 20 minutes to explain to the woman that we have the wrong address on our bill and that the contractor cut us off because he thought we were stealing cable. we signed a lease that says one address, we set our bills up on that address, then 4 months later, after the update where i kill my neighbers power, i realize i’m at a diffent address.
the timewarner contractor says “oh shit, this addresses don’t have internet/cable, but this one does, i better shut this other one off and ignore the barefoot maniac in the street”.
i hangup with the lady, who says the next day that i can have my service “transferred” is monday. today is thurday.
i call back on the desperate crusade of finding someone in timewarner who can have someone fix my service on friday, a normal business day, hell i’m working on friday… the tier 1 says they call you back with a manager but after you call, it’s 1am, no managers have called me back and i’m going to end up naked in the timewarner office tommorow.
now i could go without food, drugs, alcohol and water but not having internet for 3 days is not going to work.
i start to freak out, sitting in the middle of the living room, rocking back and forth screaming. website due the next day at 3pm is kind of a “deadline” and from what ive figured out, “web” designers need “web” to make design “web” sites.
now like any true drug addict, when cut off from his fix, he cleans. first thing i clean is my computer room. the computer room is a mess but it’s not my fault. it’s my roommate’s girlfriend who lives here, with her dog, which isn’t house broken. it’s chosen my computer room, and my bedroom, as a place to shit and piss.
it was long over due for a bleaching.
i bleach the fuck out of everything, mopping up all the bad memories of coming home to my office filled with feces.
it is now clean.
when the internet comes back i will be ready.
i do laundry.
so after all this happens this afternoon, valerie asks me if i want to drink whiskey tonight and offers to pay for it. it’s been a whiskey day so we stop at the local liquor dealer and get whiskey. mmm. we have a pleasant evening at come home.
oh wow, the dog has peed all over the clean floor.
internet still not on.
i’m going to now go lay down next to my girlfriend who probably thinks im in the computer room slitting my wrists. i’ll get a l33t few hours of sleep, then i’ll get the laptop and wardrive until i find a wireless access point spreading itself for me.
i’ll do my work for my meeting at 3, drive to my 2, walk out of my 3, pants around my ankles, loling that yet again, after the drugs, the internet and the whiskey are gone.
that i will kill every last one of you.
until i have them all back.