Oct27

Exploding Head Syndrome

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Exploding Head Syndrome

I was reading about this on some site or another (apparently it’s real, but it doesn’t involve any actual explosions or spewing out of brain matter) and I think it’s an appropriate description of my head right now.  Drove down to the new town today, made appointments to register the daughters in their new schools, scoped out the neighborhood retail and dining establishments, drove back up.  Got home in time to pick up daughter #2, swing by the asian grocer for bean sprouts and bok choy to go with dinner, got home and there was a message from daughter #1 that she’d missed her bus.  Back in the car, pick her up, sit briefly before beginning to prep dinner.  Nasty weather’s a-comin’, so my barometric sinuses are in overdrive, working on applying enough pressure for an actual head explosion (WITH spewing brain tissue!  Film at 11!) and when hubby walks in the door, I realize I forgot to go to the pharmacy to get my prescription.  And he couldn’t find the property tax bill until it was too late to pay it.  And tonight we have violin lesson and survivor night.  So tomorrow, I’ll be running two extra errands in addition to trying to pack a few dozen more boxes.  And Saturday, the home inspector comes early in the morning, we have to drive to south Jersey to borrow Mom and Dad’s pickup truck, and back, take the kids to a halloween party, and pack more boxes.  Sunday, we’ll start the day with some more box packing, then another halloween party.  Monday, I’ll pack some boxes, pick up daughter #2 and get her in her costume, then spend an hour or so taking pictures of the school halloween parade, and then, for a change of pace, pack some boxes. 

It would help a lot if my head would explode already, then I’d stop thinking.

Oct26

James Lileks Has Done it Again

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James Lileks Has Done it Again

I desperately needed to get out of the house last night, so I headed off to Borders and found “Mother Knows Worst,” by James Lileks.  (http://www.lileks.com/)  I sat in the cafe, enjoying my cappuccino, and spewing crumbs of blueberry scone all over innocent fellow patrons.  People kept turning around, even the ones who were out of firing range, to see what had me in such hysterics.  He has taken snippets of ads and books from the 60’s and before, about baby care advice and products, and added his side-splitting commentary on each.  His previous work, “Gallery of Regrettable Food” had the same effect on me.  Both had to be read in one sitting, and with a safe distance between me and anything that couldn’t handle food stains.

He does do some serious commentary, but check out the website for a taste of his humor.  And buy the book.

Oct25

Customer Service, My. . .

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Customer Service, My. . .

These automated call directors have gone way too far, IMO.  Today, we gave up trying to get new phone service over the phone, and used the internet instead.  Verizon has installed this sweet-voiced computer to direct your call in so many directions that you eventually give up.  I wonder if they’re really saving money on payroll to justify this.  First, you get to press a number to decide if you want your menus in English or Spanish or TDD.  That’s straightforward enough.  Then you get a bunch of menus asking you to say what your question is.  Then the computer says it doesn’t understand you and tells you the acceptable things to say.  (If it understands only those things, why not do this first?)  Among them were tons of options for getting new features, and then finally one for customer service.  Bingo!  (I think – I was wrong. . .)  Customer service again asks me to describe my problem. . .and again tells me it doesn’t understand and gives me a list of acceptable responses.  Do I want to. . .pay my bill online?  Pay my bill by credit card?  Find out the balance of my bill?  Sign up for a different kind of billing service?  Give them more money for no apparent reason?  Ask for a duplicate copy of my bill?  On and on and on it goes, and not one of the “Customer Service” options actually has anything to do with customer service.  At this point, I’ve wasted almost 15 minutes, and I’m no closer to getting new phone service than if I’d scrubbed toilets or poked myself in the eye with a stick.  And the toilet or eye-poking things would have been more fun, too. 

It reminded me, painfully, of the last time I called PSE&G – I don’t remember why I called, only that I went through multiple call directing prompts, and entered in my account number FOUR TIMES during the process.  When I finally managed to get through to a person, the first thing he asked was “May I have your account number, please?” 

Given the choice, I’ll drop any company that give me a telephone runaround in favor of one that actually staffs the phone line with humans, but in some cases, you have no choice.  And if it’s difficult for those of us who’ve been keeping up with technology, imagine how impossible it must be for the 12:00 flashers out there. 

This must be stopped, you marketing megalomaniacs!  You must repent your evil ways, or there’s going to be a new circle in hell for you – and it’ll have a call director system you’ll never be able to get through!