Well, My Life has been quite Random and full of Nonsense lately. Let’s just say, the Bipolar antics of these last few weeks has ripped through my January like a … tornado. Ironically, none of it was my fault – except for the cole slaw, that is. Better yet, the damage control was minimal; totally not used to that, either.
temperature tantrums
Recently, a new digital thermostat was installed in our house. I am NOT a handy-man. Moreover, if there are wires involved, it’s really, really NOT going to happen. Therefore, a local technician swapped out the units.
When I came home from work that evening, I noticed a familiar ‘sound’. Yet, the source eluded me. Once inside, the temperature was 70.3. Therefore, I didn’t think too much more about it. When I inquired about the installation, my wife quoted the techs exact words, “the instructions were clear as mud.”
That ‘mud’ was crystal clear once I realized that the sound I earlier dismissed was our air conditioner. ON. It’s January. The temperature is 20 degrees outside. What the fuck? Immediately, I turned the unit OFF. However, the FAN continued to run. According to the owner’s manual AND the YouTube tutorial, this is NOT supposed to be the case.
To add yet another element of what the fuckness, the unit customer support hotline was extremely knowledgeable AND instructed ME how to fix it. There were wires involved.
grater good
I made cole slaw last weekend to accompany the pulled pork entry I prepared. I’ve always loved cole slaw. However, I have never MADE cole slaw. For some reason, making cole slaw always intimidated me. Don’t ask me why, okay? I’m blogging about my fucking air conditioning running in January as the temperature in the house is increasing. So, of course, cole slaw would intimidate me. I can pull off an entire Thanksgiving spread that would impress Martha Stewart, but cole slaw remains my culinary nemesis.
A few months back, I ‘slawed’ my fear. Aside from the mess, I succeeded. Actually, it was very easy AND quite delicious. Now, all I need is a bigger … grater? Story of My Life, baby.
survey says …
Management is all ape shit about Receipt Surveys – those damn www. or 1-800 number surveys at the bottom of every receipt ever received by a customer. Yeah, … . I’m so not a fan. Hell, when I’m at the register ringing out a line, I ask if a receipt is even desired. More often than not, the answer is NO, of course. No one wants a receipt. Furthermore, no one wants to do a survey either.
Believe it or not, I was the topic of a recent survey comment.
The male pharmacist (that’s me) has been very helpful on previous occasions and nothing different today. He is friendly, empathetic, and has a good sense of humor.
The customer was neither bribed nor adversely coerced to say such things. There’s no doubt he or she is highly medicated, though.
To celebrate this fucked up Random Nonsense, I made Eggnog Snickerdoddles -a seasonal ‘twist’ on a summertime classic. The perfect dessert to include in a picnic basket … after eating cole slaw, … in the middle of January, …when the air-conditioner is ON.
How did I get here?
