I forsee much mockery

I just ordered a $55 CAT INHALER. For my asthmatic cat.

Yes, yes I know.

It's called the AeroKat. Here's an illustration of how this thing is supposed to work:



Because of course the cat is simply going to stand there with the mask over its whiskers, and give you a quizzical look. I actually made my own sketch of how I expect the whole inhaler thing to go, before I remembered I have no way to upload it. Let's just say that in my illustration, there's a lot more blood.

I'm trying to think how best to do this. Do I fold the cat up in a towel and sit on her? Should I forget the towel and just wrap the cat in duct tape? Do I need to wear a suit made entirely from Kevlar? Will I come out of this with both eyes and an intact jugular? The vet assures me that she's known people who've used this same device, and none of them had much trouble. I think I'd like to see how scarred these people really are. Do they have all their limbs? Do any of them now require a colostomy bag?

Anyway, I just purchased an AeroKat. I am, officially, one of those people.

Anger? Or total despair?

I spent the last two days drilling. I was outside in temperatures near 100 degrees, with heat indices of 105 one day and 108 the next. I was also wearing a Tyvek suit most of the time, which is a bit like being dressed in a Ziploc bag. It was MOTHEREFFING HOT, is what I'm saying. I don't think I have ever sweat so much in my entire life. But hey, we got the job done!

Except that today, the lab called to tell me only one of our sample shipments arrived. The other half of the job? Lost by FedEx. And now, 24 hours later, in the middle of July, on a day where temperatures have reached 100 degrees, the samples are also ruined.

And so, all that work and suffering? Yeah. For nothing. We'll have to do it all over again. In, like, two weeks.

Not cool, FedEx. Not. Cool.

Summer

All photos posted thanks to my parent's internet connection.  How sad.

Can't...survive...much...longer....

Okay, so, I might have already mentioned a few times, here and there, about how I currently don't have internet access at home. And how the internet access at my workplace is completely blocked from nearly everything that makes life worth living. Yes, you might already be aware of this.

You guys, this inability to access the Internets is about to KILL ME DEAD. I get emails with links to funny pictures or videos, I can't see them. People send me messages on Facebook, I can't respond. I can read most of my favorite blogs, but I can't see the pictures. I can't even see the comments on my own website. I can't look at Flickr or Shutterfly. I have pictures I've taken stacking up on my computer, and I can't upload them to share. Hell, I can't even back them up anywhere except my Seagate drive; given our recent luck with computers, THAT scares the everliving shit out of me.

(Yes, my company completely blocks Carbonite and other online backup services. I KNOW, RIGHT?)

I'm almost resigned to sneaking into Todd's work to borrow his computer. His company, unlike mine, has an open web policy, despite the fact that they do all sorts of military-related stuff, and really, WHY does a dirt and concrete company have more security than a federal contractor? Tell me that.

(On a side note, you know what my old company's internet policy was? It was something along the lines of, "Don't download porn. If you do download porn, PLEASE don't save it to the server." I miss those days.)

I clearly need a laptop. I loathe laptops, I despise them, but if AT&T or Mediacom or whoever comes out on the 30th and tells us they haven't run any line yet so we won't have internet until 2012, and I DON'T have an alternative at hand, I will punch a technician in the face, see if I don't.

Keeper

I often say to Micah "I love you, you know that?" Saturday night, I put him down in his crib, tucked his rabbit and his dog in next to him, kissed his waving hand, and told him I love him. He looked back up at me and smiled.

"Know dat, Mommy."

Utility companies (and the USPS) are the new enemy

Well, we finally moved in last Friday. The new house is beautiful, Micah loves his new playroom, and we're slowly unpacking all the junk we'd forgotten we had. Life, overall, is pretty good.

Now, for the bitching.

1) Up until the very day we closed on the house, the local water authority refused to allow us water service, because the sewer pump station wasn't finished. Except that it WAS finished, and everything was on and working. They were holding out on the homeowners because our builder needed to put in some dirt along the pump station driveway. And that dirt had to be personally inspected by the head of the local water service. Who was on vacation.

Those water authority guys almost cost us an awful lot of money. They DID cost us an awful lot of stress and wasted time. Remind me to send them a nice card at Christmas. One filled with the best anthrax money can buy.

2) A couple weeks before we were supposed to move, the builder mentioned all offhand-like that our section of the neighborhood didn't have gas yet. As in, it hadn't even been run to the area. At the time, he wasn't even sure when it would actually be run. And we were all, "Uh, dude, we have GAS COOKTOP."

"But it's okay," he said. "We'll install an electric cooktop in the interim. That way we can get the Certificate of Occupancy, and you'll have a cooktop." We agreed. We moved. Then we found out that the wiring for an electric cooktop is totally different from that of a gas cooktop, and consequently, ain't nothin workin. Fast forward, and FINALLY, 5 days after we moved in, the gas is connected and our cooktop is working.

Gosh, I'm glad someone thought to call the gas company BEFORE it became a huge inconvenience for...oh, wait.

3) We won't have phone or internet until at least July 30th because there are no wires in our section of the neighborhood. Even though we called AT&T quite some time ago and asked about that very issue.

4) And finally, the best of all. Today Todd went over to the post office to forward our mail. He'd tried previously to use the online service, but that didn't work. So he went to set it up with the postal worker, and she couldn’t find the address anywhere. This led her to argue with Todd about whether or not we actually live in our town (the answer is a resounding "yes, and also, are you simple?"). Then, once convinced that we do in fact live there, she told him that they'd have to measure the new distance on the route before anything could be approved. The entire extra half-mile deeper into the neighborhood would have to be verified PERSONALLY by the postmaster, who would then decide "if we want to service that mailbox." And, of course, the postmaster is on vacation. FOR THREE WEEKS.

So, no mail for at least three weeks. Oh, but we can go pick it up on Saturdays between 8 and 10! Because that's not an inconvenience, is it? Doesn't everyone want to drive all the way to the post office to pick up their mail? I mean, what kind of lazy person really needs postal service to their house anyway? You know, I bet the USPS could save a lot of money just by eliminating mail delivery. Yay, we just solved the USPS budget crisis!

...Guess what those guys are getting from me for Christmas?