Thursday, August 12, 1999

No. Work. Has. Been. Done. On. The. House.

Yesterday they were supposed to put up the insulation, so Matt and I stopped by after work. Nada. We were so angry, we called Nancy from my cell phone while we stomped around our bare-bones house. She called Donald on her other line and bounced back and forth between us for a while.

"The insulation people were running a little behind, but they finished up with [lot] 53 today, so they'll do you[r house] tomorrow! They'll start putting up drywall on Friday, and they've promised him it won't take more than three days!"

"Nancy," I said, as calmly as possible, "we're supposed to close in two weeks. It's too late for us to renew our lease. We're very concerned about this!" (That was actually true. We were very concerned, and it is too late for us to renew our apartment lease. She doesn't need to know that our lease runs until the end of September rather than the end of August.)

She remained blithe and bouncy about the possiblity of them getting everything done. Matt and I remain skeptical and pessimistic. We'll see when we see, I suppose.


We had a fantastic storm last night - hailstones as big as the end of my thumb, and for a while the wind was blowing so hard that I couldn't see across the street, even though the storm hit while it was still light out. We didn't lose power, but a friend told us that they'd heard a tornado had touched down in the county. We didn't hear anything - the cable went out, and we couldn't even get staticky local channels.

The power blinked some time during the night, though, because I woke up at one point and turned over to look at the clock and it was blinking at me. I had to wake Matt up to get him to tell me what time it was so I could re-set the clock and the alarms.

The cable was still out this morning, and it was funny to watch Matt pacing around the house. He usually watches SportsCenter in the mornings until it's time for us to go to work, and without that option, he seemed sortof adrift. Personally, if it hadn't made us miss Crusade last night, I'd almost be happy about it. Except of course, we'll still be charged for the time the cable is out, which is obnoxious.

I'd really like to see a cable company that charged according to how much you use it - say a $10 base fee plus, oh, call it a penny a minute for standard cable channels, half a cent a minute for the major networks and PBS (the stuff you can theoretically get without cable), and maybe two cents a minute for the premium channels. They'd rake in the bucks, and most Americans probably would just accept the additional cost rather than find anything else to do. But it'll never happen. Oh, well.


Two dreams last night. The first wasn't so much a dream as a pervading sensation that haunted me for the whole night - that my hair needed combing. I dunno; maybe I was sleeping on it so it pulled funny.

The second was fairly mundane for one of my dreams. Matt and I had gone to visit his friends Tristan and Jason Poje at their parents' house. (We actually did this last Christmas, so I know sortof what the house looks like.) For some reason, I had to write a letter to my grandparents, so Mr. Poje offered to let me use his typewriter to write the letter. I sat down and typed away, and there was something weird about the signatures at the bottom that I can't remember. I pulled the sheet out of the typewriter and signed it, then took it over to Matt so he could sign it as well. He looked down at the letter, then held it up so I could see, and the whole thing was written in Sanskrit. Including (and I don't know how I know this) the right-to-left reading order.

That's it. That's the whole dream. I have no idea what - if anything - it means. But it was one of those very vivid dreams that I don't get very often (I almost asked Matt when I woke up this morning why he hadn't warned me that Mr. Poje had a Sanskrit font on his typewriter), so I thought it was worth recording.

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