Week's nearly over. Finally. The Grand Document is put to bed, almost, for another year.
Sunday night a computer called the house, informing me that I had an appointment at a specialist for Tuesday. Options: [1] accept this appointment, or [2] replay this message. I did [2] about 10 times, and still got the time written down incorrectly. And it conflicted with a teleconference (not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing). Anyway. Got there early because of the above screw-up, but not to worry, the guy with the appointment before mine didn't make it, so I got his.
Quite informative, actually, and more blood tests and other stuffed things. Results are back, so we know what we're dealing with now, and it's not that big a deal. Come back in another six weeks or so for more blood tests to see how it's going.
Silly lab company didn't get the message that my insurance changed since whenever (nearly a year ago now). Unsurprisingly, my previous insurance company was thrilled to announce they'd denied all charges. Two phone calls later, all fixed. Which window do I go to to return the extra half liter of stomach acid? The logistics are more of a bother than the actual condition.
From my perspective, $evil_project seems marginally less evil this year. Perhaps the Powers That Be have learned a thing or two about abuse of their staff? Nah.
I really wish the choir director could keep track of stuff. Since I'm not around for new year's eve, she dismissed me (and a few others) a half hour early. Now I'm told that this sunday's carolling gig, which I *will* be around for, will be some of the music they practiced then. "Bring it along," says the e-mail. Um, no.
She's learned the fine art of posting her minidisk recordings of the rehearsals on the web. Kind of sobering. And not something I'd pay money to hear.
I think I've got an eggcorn that's not in the eggcorn database. From an e-mail today, regarding a command load prepared for use by the satellite: "Load XXXXXX was waived off because of another solar flare". The correct usage, a metaphor from aviation, is "waved off", as in a landing that was aborted by the guy on the carrier deck waving his arms or a flag or something.
I'm lookin forward to the weekend.
Ordered a new battery for my iBook. We sat around in a cafe on Sunday, four of us, all using our iBooks to write stuff; could have been an Apple ad. My battery got low before anyone else's. It happens. I tried deep cycling it a few times, but it still only lasts about 2 hours, with just typing at the keyboard and no significant disk usage.
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