Thursday, September 30, 2004
Breakfast for dinner
Breakfast for dinner night. Jack came to visit with the makings of a wonderful bacon, sausage and eggs dinner with "special recipe" pancakes complete with real maple syrup purchased specially at Whole Foods.
We watched the Bush/Kerry debate and enjoyed our snarky running commentary of the candidates' physical quirks and attempts to disguise their moments of irritation. George W. sure does betray himself with the tense mouth and tight lips. Kerry seemed fairly controlled, but I'm sure I detected a flash or two in his eyes toward the end.
I spent a ridiculous day playing phone tag with minimal result for all the effort. I'm beginning to understand why people rage and bitch about the Social Security Administration. I negotiated a phone tree, then waited to speak to a sullen, oppositional clerk who insisited that my inquiry was "not possible" (despite my having been referred to the department by one their own employees.) I phoned back an hour later, spoke with a different clerk who gave me the information I needed without the slightest resistance or argument. It must be nice to be a civil servant in a agency where one can screw over the public or anyone else with very little likelihood of being fired or facing consequences.
I keep having these vivid dreams of being in the 17th century. Almost every night I awaken from some dreamt encounter with people in period costume, it could make a reasonable argument for the validity of past life memory.
We watched the Bush/Kerry debate and enjoyed our snarky running commentary of the candidates' physical quirks and attempts to disguise their moments of irritation. George W. sure does betray himself with the tense mouth and tight lips. Kerry seemed fairly controlled, but I'm sure I detected a flash or two in his eyes toward the end.
I spent a ridiculous day playing phone tag with minimal result for all the effort. I'm beginning to understand why people rage and bitch about the Social Security Administration. I negotiated a phone tree, then waited to speak to a sullen, oppositional clerk who insisited that my inquiry was "not possible" (despite my having been referred to the department by one their own employees.) I phoned back an hour later, spoke with a different clerk who gave me the information I needed without the slightest resistance or argument. It must be nice to be a civil servant in a agency where one can screw over the public or anyone else with very little likelihood of being fired or facing consequences.
I keep having these vivid dreams of being in the 17th century. Almost every night I awaken from some dreamt encounter with people in period costume, it could make a reasonable argument for the validity of past life memory.
# posted by Observing Ego @ 9:50 PM 
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