Sunday, July 13, 2003

I'm Pulling My Hair Out

Okay, so.. the CD burner problem has been deemed unsolvable. My friend Paul came over this afternoon to check out the situation. Mostly I really needed someone to come and LOOK at the damn thing and make sure I shoved the plugs in the correct thingers. I freely admit I am not a techie; I'm just glad to know what I do.

He also brought over a spare master/slave jumper, since I was unable to find one around here. We could really use a computer store, I swear to god. While Paul seems to have fixed a couple other problems I was having, the CD burner went back to non-functioning status as soon as he left. I may need to pay him to hang out with me whenever I want to burn something.

We did actually manage to burn a CD, and we thought the fucking thing was finally working. At this point, now that I know it's installed correctly, that I have all the correct software bits I'm supposed to, that everything is as it should be -- I think I have a broken burner. So now I'm really mad, mostly at Polaroid for subjecting me to months of hell because of a broken CD burner. I've been close to ramming a knife through the damn thing. I want to kill it.

Yeah, I know it was only $20 and that I shouldn't sweat it; maybe just get another. But you see how much anguish this $20 has bought me? It's the principle of the thing. I'm pissed off at Polaroid, and by gum, they are going to exchange this piece of crap-ass plastic and wires they call a CD burner.

I wrote Polaroid, but haven't heard anything yet. Of course, a multi-million dollar corporation such as Polaroid wouldn't possibly have a toll-free number to call for customer service. No.. you have your choice of a number based in southern California, or an email address.

Grrrrrrr. I will be avenged!

And then, after a fairly crappy work week, I come home this afternoon, looking forward to my upcoming days off. Rest and relaxation. And lo and behold, what is the first thing to greet me when I walk in the door?


That's right, not only do I rent space in a roach motel, I suddenly have an Amityville Horror-size infestation of flies. I noticed a couple flies in here last night and was kind of wondering how they got in.. I have screens on my open windows, and a tightly-fitting screen door.

After I got over my initial creepy-crawlies, disgust, and shock, I quickly closed each window and trapped the flies between the screen and the glass. It's not very nice of me, and I don't like killing things, especially slowly like that, but you know, I just am not prepared to deal with the kind of situation that would result if I opened the windows and let them out.

I counted 32 flies trapped in the more populated of the two windows. I killed several that I didn't trap with Raid.. and there are a few more in the other window. So that's something like 40 flies in my house at once. Amityville Horror, I swear to god. First roaches, now this? Someone save me because I may go out of my mind.

Even though when you really think about it, it's so absolutely fucking disgusting... the only thing Jan and I could think of is that flies hatched somewhere in my house. The thing is, after I'd got the situation taken care of, that very thing occurred to me, and I scoured the house looking for anything that might shed a clue on where the hell all these flies came from. I couldn't find anything. It's baffling.

Ugh... I'll have to clean them up when they die.

And what kills me is that while I'm not the most organized person, I generally don't live in dirty conditions nor is my house extremely disgusting or anything. I mean, the roaches never show up in the kitchen; they always pop up on my computer desk (for some bizarre reason I can't fathom) and in the bathroom. Yet there are disgusting, nasty, food-scavenging insects all over my house. WTF?!

Dear God,

Please fix my CD burner and make the insects go away. Thank you.

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