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Shoe #I-forget-what: the sump-pump died. Not that I can blame it, it came with the unit and our Alleged Guy was kind of impressed that it lived as long as it had, but dammit, we were going to use the rest of the tax refund to catch up with fixing the last total disaster...

Well, my perfect record of having the problem that stumps the tech guy is still intact after my internet provider finally made good on their vague threats to forcibly upgrade our service; three hours later, after it turned out to be yet another "if your internet is not working, use your internet to diagnose the problem" logic-bomb, plus a lot of ( Read more... )

George Did The Thing again, grargh. Evidence is starting to suggest that it's a throwing his hands up in the air "I CAN'T LISTEN TO YOU WHEN YOU'RE TALKING THAT FAST" sort of problem, for the most part, since thinking back the main commonality does appear to be that external input devices are piling up commands faster than he can take them in, IE I ( Read more... )

*shaking head* Every time I start to think that George has grown out of the fainting-fit problem, man... *sigh*

Two years just about to the day and Upstairs has dribbled on our kitchen yet again -- I say 'dribbled' because this time it looked to be only a couple of cups of water, which later inquiry suggests was a side-effect of an argument they'd been having with the dishwasher, IE whatever clog they were trying to clear out spat up a bit of water down the ( Read more... )

Might have actually just caught George in the act of running off his battery while he's allegedly plugged in. Not that this tells me why that happens, but at least a full shutdown-and-restart seems to have talked some sense into him so far as telling me what he's currently up to goes. I think. The older I get, the less I can cope with the ( Read more... )

And now the condo board is tuckpointing the roof, or some damn thing, which involved, at 7:30 this morning, workmen setting up a scaffold outside my bedroom window, at 7:30 in the morning, and knocking bits of same against my bedroom window, at 7:30 in the morning, whilst the workmen were yelling at one another in Polish, at 7:30 in the bloody ( Read more... )

DAMMIT, GEORGE, STOP PASSING OUT LIKE THAT. The "funny" thing is I was just thinking he was about due to have a spell, based on the timing between the last couple of incidents, but I Just Don't Even. Nothing else gets to break around here this year or even next, dammit.

So, altogether, the time elapsed from "BTW the gas company needs to go through your wall" to the all-clear for putting the furniture in the studio back in order so we can, y'know, work with anything in there, came out to ten days.

And y'all wonder why I have a persecution complex.