Various Frustrations
So my email is not working this morning. This is annoying.
I'm worried that I won't be able to get a Mabel McLeod application in, which is also annoying, particularly because that goddam application would have to be overnighted, like, today. I'm sick of missing deadlines.
On Saturday, I was feeling mostly better, so I decided to finally carry the Ikea desk back to Ikea to return it, since I ended up buying a cheaper desk from somewhere else. Now, to get to Ikea on the train you have to all the way in to town, and then back out and THEN you have to walk half a mile. So I'm all: "Fuck that shit! I am so fucking transport savvy that I will take my big-ass desk directly to Ikea's doorstep... on a bus!" Oh, but London Transport is a cruel mistress. So, through a thought process that is too complicated to go into, I got on a bus that does NOT, in fact go to Ikea. So I'm on the bus running through fucking Neasden, with a desk, and all I can do is sort of guess about where I am, and get off, and I end up walking with my desk for a mile rather than half a mile. It is very, very cold. I am not entirely healthy. And very unhappy.
But it is not over. I finally make it to the "Returns" desk, and I'm supposed take a number. I take 1422. The sign says "now serving 1370." I figured there was some mistake, but no. I had to wait about an hour to return the desk, which is just as well, because it allowed blood to return to my extremities, etc. At this point I feel like I am going to pass out, so I go get some meatballs (I do love me some Ikea meatballs...) then I feel like I deserve to walk through the store, which I hadn't planned to do, since I was upset, AND I was going to have to walk back to the tube station, half a mile away.
So I buy the lamp and hike back through the cold cold night to the Tube stop and -- as I would have known had I just taken the tube in the first place -- I discover that there was no service on that line today. The British euphemism is "Planned engineering work." So I had to walk another half mile back to catch the horrible bus that I took in the first place. At least this time I stopped to buy a newspaper, so it went quite a bit quicker. But I got through the door at 9:30ish, six hours after I left.
All's well that ends well, I suppose. Also, whenever I need cheering up, I can simply look at this link, which came in my inbox recently. Book your tickets now!
Hey does anyone have access to a copy of the last ReadyMade magazine that I read, probably the Christmas issue? There is a brief piece about a website where you can turn black and white images in to cool big posters to be printed out on individual pieces of letter-sized paper. If someone can give me the address, I'd really appreciate it.
I'm worried that I won't be able to get a Mabel McLeod application in, which is also annoying, particularly because that goddam application would have to be overnighted, like, today. I'm sick of missing deadlines.
On Saturday, I was feeling mostly better, so I decided to finally carry the Ikea desk back to Ikea to return it, since I ended up buying a cheaper desk from somewhere else. Now, to get to Ikea on the train you have to all the way in to town, and then back out and THEN you have to walk half a mile. So I'm all: "Fuck that shit! I am so fucking transport savvy that I will take my big-ass desk directly to Ikea's doorstep... on a bus!" Oh, but London Transport is a cruel mistress. So, through a thought process that is too complicated to go into, I got on a bus that does NOT, in fact go to Ikea. So I'm on the bus running through fucking Neasden, with a desk, and all I can do is sort of guess about where I am, and get off, and I end up walking with my desk for a mile rather than half a mile. It is very, very cold. I am not entirely healthy. And very unhappy.
But it is not over. I finally make it to the "Returns" desk, and I'm supposed take a number. I take 1422. The sign says "now serving 1370." I figured there was some mistake, but no. I had to wait about an hour to return the desk, which is just as well, because it allowed blood to return to my extremities, etc. At this point I feel like I am going to pass out, so I go get some meatballs (I do love me some Ikea meatballs...) then I feel like I deserve to walk through the store, which I hadn't planned to do, since I was upset, AND I was going to have to walk back to the tube station, half a mile away.
So I buy the lamp and hike back through the cold cold night to the Tube stop and -- as I would have known had I just taken the tube in the first place -- I discover that there was no service on that line today. The British euphemism is "Planned engineering work." So I had to walk another half mile back to catch the horrible bus that I took in the first place. At least this time I stopped to buy a newspaper, so it went quite a bit quicker. But I got through the door at 9:30ish, six hours after I left.
All's well that ends well, I suppose. Also, whenever I need cheering up, I can simply look at this link, which came in my inbox recently. Book your tickets now!
Hey does anyone have access to a copy of the last ReadyMade magazine that I read, probably the Christmas issue? There is a brief piece about a website where you can turn black and white images in to cool big posters to be printed out on individual pieces of letter-sized paper. If someone can give me the address, I'd really appreciate it.
posted by Grrg at 10:52 AM
1 Comments:
Ahhhh...Swedish meatballs! London winters! For that matter, IKEA! We have none of the above. But Maoists! We have Maoists. Oh, and Mt. Everest. And the lovely Nepalese. What a nation of amazing, beautiful people. I'm enjoying the ramblings, my dear, especially today's IKEA desk adventures. Keep up the good write.
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