So where shall I begin with last week? It should be a good indication of how crazy it was that I am just finding the time to complain about it now, but I will start with the beginning. Last Monday. And you get headings.
WTFIMT??
Monday morning, Hector left as usual around 7AM to go to work for the week, and I was running a little late so I quickly took Sheba out to go to the bathroom and then came back inside to feed her and leave. As I was putting her food into the bowl though, I looked up and noticed something was off in Shelly's tank. As in, Shelly wasn't in it. Now, Shelly is not a large turtle (about the size of a cheeseburger) but she is pretty obvious in a tank that contains a bowl for water, a fake palm tree, a thin layer of dirt, and a Shelly. Sometimes she hides behind the palm tree but since she is not flat, I can usually find her fairly easily. But this morning, Shelly was nowhere to be found. At first I just slowly looked around, expecting to see her shell peeking out from under the water dish or sticking up over some dirt. But lazy eyeballing soon gave way to frantic pushing of the dirt when I still couldn't find her after three minutes. I forgot to mention that when I take Sheba out every morning, since it takes five minutes tops to get her to use the facilities, I never lock my door. So after searching for at least six minutes for Shelly, I finally came to the conclusion that Someone Had Stolen My Turtle. I realize how ridiculous that sounds, but honestly it was the only explanation I could think of, since Shelly can't scale glass. I left for work because by this time I was late, but I called Hector on the off chance he might have decided to take her to work to help prevent wildfire. He hadn't, so I told him that someone had come into my apartment, ignored my purse by the door, and taken my turtle. He's experienced firsthand the dementia of my neighbors, so although he might have laughed at me, he bought it and sounded worried too, which was all I needed to panic even more. All day my stomach was unsettled, thinking someone had come into my home and removed one of my animals. By the end of the day, I was certain that when I went home Sheba would be missing as well. Long story short, when I got home Shelly was in the open next to her water dish where she usually is, and although I'm still not convinced that whoever took her didn't just break back in to put her back, I am open to the possibility that she might have gone completely under her water dish, since I never lifted it up. But it's unlikely.
Inspection
The Friday before last weekend, the apartment management had put a notice on my door saying they were going to inspect my unit on Tuesday. Normally, they perform inspections once a year to check on the renovations they've installed in the apartments, but when they do that, they do a whole range of apartments. This time, it was just mine, according to the notice, and it was being performed by the "Community Compliance Committee". To me, that sounds a little ominous. The maintenance guys had been in here working on my bathroom before the notice was sent out, so I could only assume they were the ones who had tipped the management off about something, but I couldn't figure out what. It's not that I didn't know because I haven't done anything wrong, I just didn't know which violation of my lease they had noticed. How was I supposed to fix it by Tuesday if I didn't know what they were looking for? My first thought was Sheba, who isn't illegal per se, but I technically should have notified the management before I bought her and am supposed to pay a $500 deposit for. But then also there was Hector, whose stuff is all over my apartment and I am not supposed to have any guests over three days according to my lease. I can't be legally held responsible for the bondage gear and extensive lube collection, so those were the two items I thought might be checked up on. I tried to hide everything I could see that was Hector's in my place, but as I was trying to do that, it made me realize how even with his toiletries, clothes, and guitar hidden, it still kind of looks like a man lives here. I have a huge Mohammed Ali poster on my wall, a man's razor in the bathroom, and the only edible things in my refrigerator are a hot dog, month old nectarines, and some pickles. Laura agreed to watch Sheba on Tuesday, so Monday night I was running through the house trying to remove evidence of my dog as well as my boyfriend. It was much, much harder to do the first one (sorry, Hector). I hid her bowl, her blankets, and her bones, but the layer of hair that has settled over my entire apartment was a lot harder to get rid of. I vacuumed twice, which pretty much only served to push the hair around, kick it up, and then allow it to settle in different places. So I spent two and a half hours on my hands and knees around the apartment applying and ripping off packing tape to the carpet. And of course, during this time, Sheba was assisting me by running around after me and losing half her coat in the process. I'm not sure how the inspection went or still even what they were looking for, but when I got home I noticed that I had forgotten to remove the giant bag of puppy pee pads that was on top of my refrigerator. So, either the game was up at that point, or they think I am incontinent and prefer to urinate on my carpet.
AT&T
Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday were all nonstop days at work. I barely had time to eat and use the restroom, let alone do a crossword or look up the comic of the day on Natalie Dee. We are finally getting set up on our new server, which made Monday a wonderful mixture of "why doesn't anything work" and "where the hell is my email?" and "oh look, I get to reinstall my entire hard drive!". In addition to that, my boss was transferring his phone from Verizon to AT&T. Meaning, I was transferring his phone. Of course, it couldn't just work like it was supposed to according to the easy setup guide. And if you don't already know, I am technically brain dead when it comes to anything IT. So me coupled with the Blackberry Curve and something called a Blackberry Enterprise Server would have been a lethal combination even on the best of days. I called AT&T to see why the phone wasn't working and had to have them activate it remotely. Then I had to call back an hour later because although it was on, it kept turning itself off. So after "solving' the problem with one technician, I had to call back in another half hour when it happened again. That guy told me I would have to go into the AT&T store and have them plug my battery into a new phone to see if it was the phone that was defective. I went to the closest store in Palo Alto, waited for 45 minutes in their ridiculous line, then spoke to a barely legal salesperson who told me that no, he could not put the battery into another phone to test it, I would have to do that in their special customer support store in San Jose. At this point I was ready to chew his eyeballs out, but there really wasn't anything he could do to help me, so I was forced to drive the 30 minutes back towards home to go to the special store. I waited there for another half hour, but after that, the guy gave me a totally new phone that didn't have the issues the other one was having. I get back to my office three hours after I initially left it, triumphant with new phone in hand, and call our IT guy, who decides this is a good time to tell me that the internet package I ordered with the phone is not the right one, and I would have to call AT&T again to order the right one (which he had never told me about and was not on the website to purchase in the first place). It is never a simple procedure to speak to a representative at AT&T. I think the fastest I've ever gotten a live human on the line was ten minutes. But I finally talked with someone, made the change, and got bossy's cell phone up and running, all in a mere 6 hours. So imagine my ecstasies when my boss tells me Tuesday that since I'd now "gotten the hang of" dealing with AT&T, I would get to order this complete wireless system for his dad's ranch near Tahoe. I won't go into it too much because my hand is starting to cramp, but there went my Tuesday. AT&T goes to great lengths to ensure that not just anyone can order service on your account, which I suppose is a good thing, but I figure if someone has my social security number, address, and mother's maiden name, which you need all of to get into the cell phone account, then the last thing I really need to worry about is them trying to add unlimited text messaging to my phone plan. By Wednesday afternoon I had finally made my last call in to AT&T, and I hope I never have to call again. But I know better.
Electrocution/Vet
Hector got off work Thursday morning, so he was home with Sheba for a bit Thursday. When I got out of the gym, he gave me a call saying I needed to come home because Sheba's eye was so puffy she couldn't see out of it. So I sped home thinking she was on death's door, and when I got in the house, she looked so pathetic I wanted to cry. Her whole left eye was swollen shut, since she had been scratching at it pretty much all day. Wednesday Laura put some aloe on her stomach cause she was scratching and biting till she bled in some places. She's done this on a lower level since I got her, but only this last week was it getting way worse. I gave her a benadryl Thursday night, but to be safe I made an appointment for Friday for the vet since I had no idea why all of a sudden it was getting so bad. I started making dinner late because our plans to go out to eat fell through, and it was when I was plugging in my rice cooker that I got electrocuted. When the stupid planners for the renovations at the apartments designed the new kitchens, it was someone's bright idea to install under-cabinet microwaves in all the units. That's great, except they block the one useable outlet on the counter line. In order to plug anything else in my kitchen, I have to contort my body and squeeze my arm into the 21/2 inch space between the microwave and the wall. This is normally not an easy process, but when your fingertips are slightly damp and you are just jabbing away in the general area of the electrical socket because you can't see through a microwave, what happens is you get however many volts that normally power those appliances coursing through your body instead. I heard the pop, saw the flash, and screamed pretty much all at the same time, and then my hand was out without my realizing I had pulled it from behind the microwave. I had scratched myself down the lengthof my arm though because instead of pulling out at a right angle like I had gone in, I just went straight out and along the sharp bottom edge of the microwave. My finger was still hurting the next day, but on the plus side I am waiting for my superpowers to kick in.
The best part of the week was when my boss told me I could "work" from home the rest of Friday after the vet appointment. Unfortunately, I really did do work. At the vet, we learned that Sheba is highly allergic to either food or her environment, and we got a nice arsenal of pills to put her on for the next two weeks till we have to go back for a checkup. The visit was $216, most of which Hector paid since I had no money. Happy Birthday to him! It took them 20 minutes to check us out since they couldn't seem to work their billing software properly and then I had to go back ten minutes after I'd left because they forgot to give me the hypoallergenic food Sheba has to eat for the next six weeks to see if it's food she's allergic to. I didn't sign up for this. Deaf, sure, I knew about that. But a pill-popping, allergy riddled dog who can't eat anything but low allergen dry food and can only handle the outdoors after a dose of benadryl followed by an immediate bath? Sheba may have to accidentally "escape" one of these days.
So that was my week. After typing all of that, I think the next thing to go wrong will be full blown carpal tunnel. But then I can wear those cool wrist braces, so really it's not all bad.
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