| I am glad I wrote the entry wherein I was giddily happy about my upcoming new phone, as the euphoria has, as expected, worn off. Apparently I forgot one possible option: AT&T would tell me that my order had been accepted, and then would promptly lose all record that my order ever existed. In sum: I am on hold again. I have been so for the past one hour, one minute, and twenty eight seconds. At approximately fifty eight minutes, I switched for some reason away from the endlessly repetitive voice who coolly reassured me that my call is very important and would be answered in the order in which it was received. Now, I am listening to the soothing sounds of lite jazz. In other news, my company party has been canceled. Or rather, transmuted from an actual Friday night party to a lunch at a local pub sometime next weekish. My efforts at picking up cross-stitching again go very well. I rediscovered a piece I originally intended as a present for when my niece was born. Now she is five. For some reason, it has become immensely pleasant to go home, sit on my Klaus, and stitch all night long. I have finished the entire sun and entire moon. (Believe me, that is good.) I do wish I hadmore interesting things to say, but this entry really is just to keep from falling asleep while on hold for an hour, six minutes, and forty seven seconds. I wish that Taydo would go back to writing things. I miss him and I miss his summaries of the new episodes of Queer Eye. And hoo boy, there's been a lot to discuss about that lately. P.S. At one hour, nine minutes, and thirty one seconds, the sounds of lite jazz were abruptly replaced by a dial tone. Please tell me where Mr. AT&T is, that I may kill him. |
