Take a photo of something orange.

The irony is not lost on me.

The DSL guy came today.

Half an hour before he showed up, the DSL line finally synched to the lineM and we had connectivity. Truly, our luck.

I called the DSL company to tell them the connection was back up and the repair guy didn't have to stop by. The (increasingly misnamed) customer service rep declined to cancel the appointment, and said, too late, the repair guy was on his way. He was already fifteen minutes late for his FOUR HOUR WINDOW, but, by golly, he was going to show.

Darn it, sorry Kris, sex would have to wait another thirty minutes.

When he arrived, another fifteen minutes later, I told him the DSL modem link was back up. He insisted on checking the line, so I led him to the office. He disconnected the DSL box, connected up his "diagnostic box" and promptly told me the line was bad. Although the line may be working now, we should have them replace the wiring the next time it goes out.

Uh huh. Sure.

So, I asked him, "Why do you believe there's a problem with the interior wiring?"

He waved his hands, pointed to his magic box, and said his equipment told him so.

Ohhhhh-kaaaaaay.

What was he checking that the magic box told him our line was bad?

His diagnostics.

This continued for a good five minutes, as I attempted to get him to explain exactly why he believed the wiring problem was in the house. I needed to know because we'd have to pay for any interior wire fixes, whereas the DSL company would pay for any wiring problem outside the house. If this guy was telling me to spend five hundred dollars to fix my wiring, I wanted to know why he believed my wiring was faulty.

He wasn't able to answer anything more than his magic box said so.

Fine, I thought, switching tactics, what would I have to do if we decided to get our wiring fixed? Where would they start? For example, why do we have these three boxes and two filters on our line COMING INTO THE HOUSE when the problem is inside thwe house, I asked, while pointing to said boxes attached to the ceiling in our garage.

He looked up at the boxes, looked at me, looked back at the boxes, looked at me, and, in the same tone of voice, without losing a beat, said, "The problem is with the line coming into the house. We're responsible for that wiring, when you want to fix it."

I couldn't help but think, "Oh? Did your magic box tell you that, too?"

Ever since Kris was laid off, I've been trying very hard not to spend money. Mostly not to spend money on superfluous things. Things like a chest freezer to store extra boxes of Girl Scout cookies and the chocolate chip cookies I made last week and the extra slice of the Great Wall of Chocolate from P.F. Changs that I couldn't finish. Or maybe the electrolysis to remove those annoying little hairs that are growing from places they're really not supposed to be growing. You know, the important things. Screw food, water and shelter, who needs that?

Unfortunately, consumer habits die hard, and I've really enjoyed using my new Sidekick. This thing cracks me up! When I showed Heather, hey look, I can log into IM from this thing, isn't that neat, she replied, "Great! Now you can always be connected." When I answered, "I know! Isn't that awesome?" her response was, "You know, that's not a good thing for most people."

Yeah, well, me and my toys. Certainly wasn't always that way.

When Kris and I first started dating, he ordered DSL for his Intarweb connection. I couldn't understand why he needed this faster, always on connection.

Until I used it.

For our first Christmas, Kris bought each of us cell phones. When I opened my box, my response was something like, "Wow! Thanks! Cell phones? Who needs a cell phone?"

Ah, but he was just setting the stage.

I recall thinking Bharat was way an early adopter with his Tivo (oooo!) and his tiny cellphones. Oddly, people think of me that way now.

People are crazy.

Besides, I'm trying not to spend money at this point.

Try as I might, I'm not having much luck at it.

Our refridgerator died last week. Mike saved us the $500 repair by offering us the use of his old one (yay, Mike!). Then, the DSL died, resulting in potentially another couple hundred dollars worth of repairs. Worlds tickets (admittedly a vacation we're choosing to go on, and not one that's absolutely required) are coming up, as well as housing and such. A favorite picture fell shattering the glass, requiring another $40 framing job.

Mike said, when it rains, it pours. He's right. I just wish our clients would pay us, and make this downpour of expenses a little easier to take.

After fighting with the DSL for a couple hours, and spending another half hour on the phone with the DSL company (most of which I spent telling them, this isn't going to help - shock, I was right), I drove up to Bay Leaf Lodge to help Mark and Megan around the house.

The interesting thing about these Toil of Tears is that, as the house owner and sponsor of this work, you have to describe as best you can what you want done and how you would do the task, then let go. Let go, and hope the person doing the work will do it as well as you would, that they care as much as you do.

It's hard. I'm not very good at it. At the Worlds Fundraising at Krikitt Wol, I cringed through most of the day, and, as Doyle can attest, micromanaged much too much.

Mark does a much better job (or, at least, projects doing a better job) of letting go, and let us do our assigned tasks.

I was caulking his windows when I had to stop. I was amazed at how much more difficult caulking windows is, compared to caulking trim in a bathroom. I managed to do well in the bathroom after all of 10 feet. I never managed to do well on his windows, trying freeform, with tape, with adjusted tape, using too much caulk with wiping off, and using too little caulk with backfill. Nothing seemed to help: I sucked at it the whole time.

I managed to finish two windows and was working on the third, having forgotten to do the door, when I realized the end of the caulk looked very sparkly, shiny, and, aw crap, iridescent. One look to the horizon and I realized I had 20 minutes before I went blind. Again.

Megan handed me four Advil, the latest in the tests of which OTC drugs I can take to ward off the worst of this migraine that's about to hit me over the head with a sixteen pound sledgehammer. Or was it the twenty pounder? I forget.

I read recently (in the grand scheme of things), that Tylenol (yeah, yeah, acetaminophen) actually has no affect on suppressing migraine pain, because of the pain relief process. Essentially, a migraine headache is so bad because it's caused by the sudden dialation of severely constricted blood vessels. The rush of blood (hence, increased blood pressure) to the head causes the pounding that is felt with each heartbeat.

Ignoring the fact that the body is ridiculously good at balancing itself, and that pressure should release immediately. It doesn't.

Advil (yeah, yeah, ibuprofin) is an anti-inflammatory. The thought is that this property will reduce the blood pressure in the whole body, causing less severe headaches.

For me, however, it's less the severe headache and more the blindness, numbness and nausea that sucks. Hate it.

The Advil helped, because my vision cleared up in about thirty minutes and I was semi-functional the rest of the day.

Heather came over with dinner in the early evening, and we spent four hours watching the first three discs of Veronica Mars, Season One. I had most of the day planned with various house tasks, mostly clean up work, and managed to get none of it done today.

There are times when life decides something else is more important than that to-do list. Sometimes it just likes to tell you it's time to stop stressing about everything and just let go.

And now, he's dead..

The worst part? His death was a senseless one.