Now It Can Be Told

Part of the reason for my recent silence has been an absolute shitstorm over the last few months: job, job hunt, freelance work, and also putting the house on the market.

Well all the hard work paid off. We are in contract to sell, closing in early October, and I just accepted a job in New Hampshire.  Ill be starting up there some time this month.

Live Free or Die!!


(Sorry, Atom. I worked the MN angle as hard as I could, I really did.)

This Week Is Gonna Suck....

And this is why: Idiots are a force multiplier for stress.

Hey Mister Retail Man

Hey Mister Retail Man
When I'm in your store

I can appreciate the speedwalk back the counter once I've expressed interest in a floor lamp and a matching table lamp.

I can understand the fact that you might blow off the idea that I'm really interested in the matching table lamp that I saw in your online catalogue.

I guess I can believe that you'd leave it at "they come in when they come in" and that you missed that I'd expressed interest in getting an email when they do come in.

While you're speedily arranging delivery for a new lamp to be shipped in from your Chicago store, I sort of maybe get that you might ignore the fact that I've mentioned a couple of times that I'm due in next week to shop for a new sofa with a friend with more taste than I'm equipped with.

But when I'm chatting with the cute salesgal who brought up the subject of forgetting that Xmas is actually two weeks away and not one, and she's giggling a teensy bit, and I once again bring up sofas and next week, I get kinda PO'd that you'd interrupt me to flatly discuss when the store would be in touch.

When I do buy the matching table lamp, and if I do buy a sofa from your store, it will be in spite of you, not because of you.

Nothing makes me appreciate a good salescritter more than a bad one.

Sheesh.