channonyarrow

Current score: Me, 1, AT&T 1. We're gonna go for a split decision though, and I will get the service charge removed. I will make them adhere to my standards, by god.

To Do:
Apply for this
Call Sightlines and tell them that I am PERFECT for their job.
Find out if Seattle Metropolitan Magazine is still hiring.
Find out if I know anyone who knows anyone at SMM.
Apply at SMM
Contact Amazon and say "'sup, bitches?"
Contact Tor and say "'sup, bitches?"
Book plane flight.
Clean apartment.
Get dressed.
Transfer iTunes playlists.
Buy concert tickets
Check on Cobra Starship tickets.
Re-up LJ.
Cut out skirt for Halloween and cap movie.
Go to liquor store and Office Max (for my nefarious purposes, I need Jack Daniels, half-size legal pads, and a flash drive).
Quit moping.

To be crossed off as done.

I think I am dead of total ennui. Something needs to happen or I'll probably just slit my wrists to see if that's different.

Also - my phone is the tool of the devil, and I think that two people I texted last week don't have text, so if you're trying to get hold of me, that's why I haven't called you back. I will call back when my phone is NOT EVIL. Hopefully, I will just be able to buy a goddamn NEW phone tomorrow rather than dealing with a warranty...no, wait, this is actually interesting. Or different, at least. I can't guarantee interesting.

Step 1. My phone turns into an evil bitch whore cockbiting fucktard and decides that it can't find the network on occasion, generally when I am in the middle of a phone call.
Step 2. People at the store I bought the phone tell me that I need to talk to warranty - if the problem persists.
Step 3. The problem goes away. Problem solved.
Step 4. The problem returns. Slightly worse. No one wants to talk to me as I cannot guarantee that my phone will stay connected. My phone has no other reason to exist, so I'm not sure why it wants to fail at its one task, but there you go.
Step 6. My phone adds "not finding the network for up to ten minutes at a time after a call has dropped" to its list of favourite activities EVAR.
Step 7. I go on vacation to the centre of the universe. The centre of the universe has a warranty centre.
Step 8. The centre of the universe tells me they can do nothing about this and I need to CALL THE WARRANTY CENTER (apparently located in Bumfuck, Arkansas, because it's not in New York).
Step 9. I say sod it all and rock out with my...sock? hawk? I lack a cock, so it wasn't that. My SOMETHING out. Phone continues to TOTALLY NOT FUCKING WORK, AND, in fact, FAILS in the middle of a call to the person who GOT ME INTO THE CONCERT IN THE FIRST PLACE. Way to make me look like an asshat, you piece of shit.
Step 10. My mother believes I have been eaten by wolves due to inability to contact me. I point out it was more likely to be the Jersey Devil.
Step 11. I return home. I refuse to call the Warranty Centre, with, apparently, the thought that ignoring the problem will make it go away. I don't know why, because that didn't work when I was six, but at least it's EASIER.
Step 12. My phone adds "randomly shutting off, oh wait, you pushed that button again so I'll COME BACK ON AND THEN SHUT OFF." I swear to god I hear maniacal laughter coming from it.
Step 13. I call the Warranty Centre, who tell me ALL KINDS of evil things, including that if the scratches on the front of the phone from when I sort of dropped it on gravel and kind of stepped on it (like, I figured it out before I turned it into phone pate, but still) might have caused the malfunction, I will owe them $115 dollars for the phone they're sending me. They don't care that the scratches happened after the phone started fucking up, as if I could PROVE THIS ANYWAY.
Step 14. I am not stupid. They will charge me this amount for ANY REASON AT ALL BECAUSE CHRIST FORBID ANYONE FULFILL A WARRANTY OBLIGATION.
Step 15. New phone arrives! New phone is made of total evil! New phone hates me, and, I think, has different functions in different places! I beat phone to death and make it resemble old phone. I still hate old phone for not being like OLD phone, which was a different brand, and also for the manifold ways in which the designer of THIS phone was on crack.
Step 16. New phone is remanufactured, not actually NEW. This is important.
Step 17. Apparently this phone had a problem with reception. How do I know this? Because I ONLY have reception when standing in the middle of, like, a field of cell phone towers.
Step 18. I decide this is UNACCEPTABLE.
Step 19. I decide further that if I'm paying for a fucking phone - again, my cynicism, but HONESTLY, who has EVER had a phone returned under warranty that they did NOT pay for - I'm going to be able to get a cheaper phone than a piece of shit remanufactured Samsung assbiscuit that costs $115.00. SUPPOSEDLY.
Step 20. I continue to get phone calls that I have no wish to return because I don't like conversations that mostly consist of "Can you hear me? Can you hear me?" My phone sulks because, FOR SOME STRANGE REASON, I do not love it as much as I love whiskey. Maybe if it acted like a phone, we could totally talk.
Step 21. I run out of time to do ANYTHING, let alone get a new phone. I have until Monday to do SOMETHING with this piece of shit cockmonkey phone before I get charged $115.00
Step 22. I kill myself and refuse to deal with any of this because it's more than I need right now.
Step 23. I return from the dead and vanquish AT&T. I may even break my contract and go to TMobile so I can have a Sidekick, which I will use, essentially, as a) a phone and b) a large paperweight, but OMG COVET. It helps that AT&T doesn't see a problem with illegal government wiretapping, which I did not know about until about three days after I reupped my contract with them.
Step 24. I nominate myself Darth Vader Of The Day for this win.

Also, I totally voted for AN INSANE PERSON (like, really) yesterday, but I felt he was the better candidate, so I hope he's elected.

Tax time again. Hurray! I have found out that due to 1099-MISC, it's not possible to efile. I think I am going to just send them my fucking 1040 form and call it good, if I can find the missing 1099-MISC.

As I told graeae, 1099-MISC is the government's answer to hentai. You get that form if you earn money from the milk of one cow or if you, you know, self-employ at being a mad bomber, and that form is a tentacle. It gets RIGHT UP THERE, and gets REAL friendly, and means that you will NEVER EVER EVER be able to file your taxes in a sane fashion. You will find: The joy of Schedule SE! The Short schedule SE! The LONG Schedule SE! The 1040 LONG form that you have to use because you cannot use anything else with SE! The completely inappropriate question set! (I am not fucking self-employed, motherfuckers, based on my lack of an EIN or incorporation papers or health insurance provided by myself; I earned some money reading fucking books! And no, I don't have a cow.)

I'm expecting the Cast of Thousands and The Corpses of A Thousand Evil Men, at this point. My tax return is not being filed, it is being sagaed.

So there's that on the list for today, and then "Find a bunch of important paperwork and get a new prescription and generally run around like an idiot and make up for the fact that this weekend was totally lost."

This is like the Journey Into Reagan's Brain. I need to remember to bring matches and flammables in case the IRS collapses around me and I need to blast my way out.