November 9th, 2017

#5963: So very tempted to break a rule and swear in the post title, but I won't.

One of the style rules I have set for the Fungus is to avoid profanity in the post titles. It's okay to bury it in the body, but by definition the title is bigger and set apart, and more visible.

But I am just about fit to be tied.

First off, neither Mrs. Fungus nor I could decide on anything for dinner last night, and ultimately we gave up and decided on Culver's, so I hit the road. Got there, placed my order; but when I went to pay for it? "The machine says not to honor the card."

When you have insufficient funds, the machine declines it. It doesn't say "do not honor". "Do not honor" means the card was shut off at the source.

So--ran home, got wife's card, went back, got dinner.

Today I called the bank. Apparently a new card was issued. It must have gotten lost in the shuffle here while I was on my repainting binge. There was a stack of "pending business" on my desk, bills and such--and I seem to recall an envelope with something stiff in it which merited more attention when I had time--but when I looked in the boxes of desk stuff I didn't find anything with a card in it. I tore into all the places I have stashed things from the computer room, and did not find the replacement card that the bank says they sent. Argh etc.

So, in the midst of all this searching, I get a call from the recruiter I've been dealing with. She can't get in contact with any of my former bosses, and they need at least one reference from someone so they can move forward. Naturally, she calls when I've ducked out to the garage to check the boxes of computer room stuff.

Trying to figure out what to do about the family room; and no one from Luna has called me back yet. Last night I pulled up the SW corner of the carpet and found there's no tile under it, just plywood. The hell of it is, when the kitchen floor was redone in 1982, some of that tile was pulled up then. I'm starting to wonder if they didn't pull up the whole thing before the carpet went in--but if that's so, why is there tile around the floor vent?

...of course, you can't see very far under the carpet, either, from there. Who knows how far it goes? But surely if they'd pulled up the tiles they wouldn't have left a row of them by the vent, because that would have left an obvious rill in the carpeting.

On top of all this, I didn't get much sleep Monday night. Tuesday I got up when my wife did, and was up the whole day; so at her bedtime last night (especially after the frustrations of the day) I was more than ready for bed. I was so tired that I fell asleep laying on my back, which I almost never do. Mrs. Fungus woke me up twice, telling me to be quiet, before I realized that I needed to roll over now because I did not need any "spin down" time.

It seemed like a couple of minutes later that I woke up gagging on bile. Acid reflux! Hooray! And it was really bad, too--to the point of almost making me vomit--so I had to get up, take some antacid, drink some water, and then sit up for a while to let everything settle down. Forced out of bed around 2 AM, I could not go back to bed before four AM because of that nonsense. And then, up at the same time as my wife again.

Tired. Very, very tired.

But you know what? Although this silliness is kind of frustrating, it's all surmountable. First, the customer service rep from the bank said I can go to the nearest location and get a temporary debit card, which I can use until the replacement arrives. Second, I was able to contact a former boss to ask her to vouch for me so I can get a new frigging job, and she replied to me and says she'll talk to them for me. Third, I can just pull up the carpeting myself and verify whether there's tile under it or not, and if there's not I expect Luna can come and do the job we hired them to do.

But it'd be easier if I could get some more sleep.

#5964: Somebody get me a pizza.

So Luna is coming back tomorrow. If they can't do the family room, they won't, but at least we'll get the computer room done.

If they can't do the family room, I will pull up the carpet and put down 1/4" underlayment over whatever flooring is there, and then invite them back to finish. Getting tired of this.

So I spent my morning on job-hunting stuff, getting ducks aligned for the recruiter so I can hopefully interview at the actual company soon. Then I had to get a nap, because I could no longer see clearly; an hour and half later I was up again, and at 'em.

Hit the bank, got my change counted and deposited, then saw what we could do about the debit card. Turns out their only real solution was a prepaid credit card, so I did that. Had several other errands to run, including going to the bank and examining the contents of my parents' safe deposit boxes, going to the insurance agency to pay an overdue insurance bill, and going to the grocery store for sundry necessities.

But it's all handled now. It took my entire afternoon and it was frustrating as all get-out, and I haven't even eaten anything today other than one lousy Twinkie, so I've got a headache, but it's all handled and all I have to do tomorrow is wait for Luna to come and then sit around while they do all the work.

Remaining task for today: take down the computers (again) so they can do the computer room. But that's a half hour job at most.

* * *

So an anti-Trump neighbor of Rand Paul flipped out and beat the tar out of him. "Beat the tar" meaning that Paul has six broken ribs and a "pleural effusion", which basically means there is bleeding between his rib cage and his lungs.
Why push the claim about grass-clippings? Because it's a federal offense to threaten or assault a federal officer (which a Senator is). So the Postal Prog's lawyer is trying to push the claim that this had nothing to do with Paul's status as a federal officer. Just about grass clippings, you know.
It doesn't matter if the attack was over grass clippings. It's still assault on a federal officer, and I'd bet money that the law doesn't differentiate by motivation for the assault.

And you don't beat the crap out of someone because you don't like what they're doing with their grass clippings, even if it's been a point of contention for a while. You just don't resort to violence in that kind of case, because regardless of who you're attacking it's assault and battery at the very least.

The media is naturally trying to cover for the leftist dickbag.

And of course the leftist pussy attacked Paul from behind, giving him no warning or chance to defend himself.

* * *

Gun safety, your government at work edition:

FBI unit chief is allowed to concealed carry anywhere, even places civilians may not. And when he gets completely annhiliated and takes a woman back to his hotel room, and she steals his gun, why, that's an unfortunate occurrence which gets him a note in his personnel file.

Mind you, if a citizen just walks into a bar in North Carolina while carrying a concealed gun, he'll go to jail and lose his permit. But of course an FBI agent is one of the Only Ones who should be allowed access to firearms; as a government employee, any gun stolen from him through his own negligence would never be used in a crime or anything.

Related: Shooter in Texas could only get his guns because the government dropped the ball. The existing laws would have prevented him from legally buying firearms if the bureaucracy had done its job.

* * *

Watched the first season of Broadchurch because David Tennant is the lead in it, and he speaks with his actual Scots accent instead of an assumed London accent. The second season is, so far, not as interesting as the first was.

Now that I've had my breakfast (!) I find myself getting a splitting headache. That always seems to happen when I don't eat anything all day. Oh well.