at&t and thunderstorms

  I don't like to talk on the phone. I'm okay if someone else calls me and I know them. That's cool. But calling up and ordering a pizza? Beyond me. Calling AT&T to fix my phone service... three times? Yeah, you'd think it would get easier, but no. The first time was fantastically easy, except they wouldn't let me do anything until Dad called back to authorize it. Later Mom says, "Oh, yeah! That's because your brother used to call and change things all the time." Thanks for telling me that before I tried to do you a favor. This was after I'd asked her whether I'd need his access code or his social, and she would. not. give. me. the social. DUDE, you've given it to me before for no reason whatsoever, but the one time I do need it, you stonewall me. Uncool! Anyway, imagine having to make all these calls on the worst cell phone you have ever used, in the bermuda triangle of reception, all with next to no charge left because your brother forgot, for three days running, to bring the charger back. With me? Good. So I call Dad, have to explain my plan in triplicate because of shoddy phone and then I have to resort to yelling. You know, so he can hear me. Oi.
Eventually he gets through, authorizes me or whatever [honestly, I think I could have just called back with the social and gotten through the same way, but this way he got the amount needed to be paid to restore service annnnnd offered to pay it. Since it's not my bill to pay, that offer isn't as awesome as say, him paying the cable bill, but since I'm the one writhing in agony at the thought of five days without my computer... Yeah. Anyway, each time I get through to someone after this, they say I have to pay the entire balance. Um... no? He just called and the number he gave me was not the number you just rattled off. Said all very politely and I swear, the longer this took, the more Southern belle my voice got. Not the stripper place, but the other sort of belle. Anyway, I was polite as can be, sugar, and the guy I finally got through to kept trying to point out that paying the lower price would just give me my phone service.

Him: That'll just assure your phone service.
Me: ... Um, that's all we have. No bells, no whistles, no fun extras. Just a phone line.
Him: That'll just assure your phone service, ma'am.
Me: ...*sigh* Will that turn my phone service back on and keep it on?
Him: ... Yes.

I dunno, but with all the run around, you'd think he could tell I don't have six billion fun things hooked up to that account. Whatever. The point is, I actually managed to call and fix something without a nervous breakdown.

It's sad that I'm so happy about this, and I might not be all, "WOO, ME!" if, you see, it weren't actually a big deal.

I'd like to kick all people I see/hear using the word haters. That's right, you're all on notice. It's annoying!

To end my day, my nephew returned for part of his summer visit. I slept through his initial descending, which was okay, as his father was around for part of it. Mom made dinner, but every time I tried to disappear after dinner [exhausted, table for me] I'd get sucked back in. Okay, fair enough, especially once I heard the rumble of thunder. It's summer in the city... Which means thunderstorms happen daily, and if you're lucky, you can sleep through them. But no amount of convincing could get the nephew to settle down until he'd seen an episode of Spongebob. Okay, fine. Then he wanted Drake & Josh. He got fussed at for being too loud and so off to bed with him. Where he started freaking out because thunder really is scary, and no amount of chattering could convince him it was the lightshow he really had to worry about. I tried for an hour and I got nowhere. Finally I hauled him to my room, cleared a space on the floor, and tried to sleep. [He got the floor. I've got a tiny bed, ok? and at least my floor isn't hardwood, like when I'd try and snooze in with the parentals. also, their floor was just as messy, now that I think about it...] This didn't go so well for the first half an hour, but I dozed off and woke up again after midnight, thinking it was like, six a.m. Thunder still, so I flopped back in bed and fell asleep again. I kept waking to the sounds of things moving, and Thomas occasionally chattering in his sleep, but no freakouts that I recall. When I woke up an hour or so ago, the moon was shining and no thunder to be heard, so I scooped him up, put him in my bed, told him where I'd be, and left.

I can't say it was the most restful sleep in the world, but thunderstorms still freak me out occasionally, so I can't fuss for him being bothered by the leftovers from a medium sized one.