I ended a workweek in which I went about a hundred miles an hour for at least ten hours each day and only managed to move about two inches with the decision that I would spend this weekend doing nothing. What I was aiming for was this:
What I got instead:
Well, except for the therapeutic destruction of the second half. I got some of that in a couple of weeks ago so can go a bit longer before I again feel an irrational compulsion to wantonly fuck some shit up.
I was very successfully accomplishing nothing when Amethyst came to me to tell me that the washer wouldn’t drain. I did my dutiful husband thing and manually pumped the soapy water out of the washer, then tore into it to check out the pump for clogs or failure… just as I got the cabinet off of the thing my phone yelled at me that something was wrong on one of the servers I administer remotely. I went off to the office, all the way across the family room, cursing Murphy and his terribly inconvenient law.
Once there I found that some unidentified shithead was logged in and doing things I would never approve. I assumed that the unidentified shithead was a third party contractor who’s known to me, but I don’t operate upon assumptions so I kicked the shithead out and sent an email to him, his boss, our mutual client company’s CEO, their general manager, and their office manager. The only response I received came from the suspected shithead’s boss who said he assumed that it was his shithead doing it, so I explained (CC’d to everyone) that I don’t operate on assumptions when it comes to system security so if I didn’t receive confirmation soon I’d take actions that might cause screaming. The unidentified shithead persisted in trying to do dumb things and getting booted just as quick as he got logged in and I never heard another peep from anyone, so now no one at all can login on that server without talking to me first.
I expect screaming. I might not hear it — it’s well known that screaming at me is saying goodbye forever to me. I’m leaving it to my client to decide if I have to prove it. I would prefer that they don’t but it won’t appreciably affect my bottom line if they do.
Back to the washer: I removed the pump and ran it with a drill motor in a sink full of water. The pump works just fine. I reinstalled and tested, and sure enough it works there, too. Amethyst was just mistaken about which cycle the machine was in at the time — no biggie, it happens. I didn’t confirm that it was supposed to be in a drain cycle either. That leaves just the motor coupler to be at fault, which fortunately is a cheap and easy fix. Ten bucks for parts, half an hour from start to finish, no exotic tools required. Unfortunately we’ll have to hit the laundromat once before the parts arrive. I hate laundromats. They cost too much and too readily spread disease, which was one of the very first things I learned as a wee small child who was repeatedly made ill that way.
I’m feeling extraordinarily ready for an enormous windfall. C’mon lottery jackpot!