Was reading in bed yesterday afternoon when I got another phone call from Social Security regarding an application I had submitted for prescription drug assistance. (The first caller had wanted to know if I lived with my spouse, the answer to which is, “What spouse?” ) The purpose of the form was to determine the value of my “assets,” which includes my Xcel Energy stock. When I was filling out the form, I had just found the market value of the stock for that day and multiplied it by the number of shares and put the answer on the application. However, this caller informed me that the IRS did not agree with the figure I’d put down. I explained how I had arrived at the figure and pointed out that at the time I filled out the form, I had not yet gotten my 1099 from Xcel. I had to get up, go to the office and find the 1099, read it to them, gave them the “fair market value” listed on it, and explained that the dividends from this stock are reinvested in more shares of this stock, and that I don’t and won’t get a penny from them until my shares are sold. That settled, I was going to go back to bed to read some more, but saw that it was now 6 pm. I decided to get up and call in a pizza strike.
Got dressed, booted up the computer, and saw that Mailwasher had errored out trying to download email from one of my accounts. Then I saw that I’d gotten an email that said one of my email addresses had been “compromised” and they had shut it down. Guess which account it was. I went to the ATT website and tried to change the password as that’s what the email said to do, but the stupid website was recalcitrant. I then yelled “I want to speak to a real person!” into the phone until the computerized answering system connected me to a real person. After conferring with his superiors several times, the techistani in question finally managed to accomplish the feat, and hunky-doryness was once again restored to the email realm chez nous.
Nonetheless, it was going on 7:30 when I finally went to the website and ordered my pizza. Domino’s pizza can be ordered over the internet. When you sign up with them, you put in your address and phone number, so when you order a pizza they already know who you are and where you live, as well as how you intend to pay for the pizza (cash or credit card). You can also set up your definition of “the usual” if you so desire. You have the option to order any of their “standard” pizzas or you can elect to build your own from their types of crust, and list of ingredients. I always elect to build my own pizza. I ordered a small, they charged me for a small, but sent me a medium. I did not complain. Instead, I fell upon it like a ravening beast and om-nommed half of it in pretty short order. Put the other half in the *refrigidezer for om-nomming at a later date.
Since I didn’t get on the computer at all Sunday and slept until 4 pm yesterday, I’ve spent all night catching up on the blogs and webcomics and such that I follow. I’ve just been sleeping until I wake up or until 9 a.m., which is when I take my meds and vitamins. Sometimes, if I still feel tired, I just go back to bed again. It’s been great being able to sleep finally after not being able to sleep well for so long. I just sleep til I get tired of it.
I’m in the process of designing a knitted “bed robe” which is something to wear in bed while I’m reading to keep my arms warm. I’ve been wearing my shawl, but it only goes down to my elbows. I need something with sleeves in a soft yarn, but I’m still thinking about just what it needs to do, and visualizing how I need to construct it. More on that story later as it develops. Before I can get started on it, though, I have to finish a pair of baby booties first.
The baby was born in December. He’s the son of the daughter of a long-time family friend. She’s a lawyer. Married another lawyer. Twice. In a Christian ceremony for her (white dress, brides maids, daddy escorting her down the aisle, wedding cake, etc.,) and the next day in a Hindu ceremony for his parents (red sari, gold jewelry, pavilion, flower garlands, etc.). She’s happy, his parents are happy. Everybody’s happy. His parents are ecstatic that their son’s first child is a boy. Her dad (her mother passed away when she was in high school) is happy that mother and his first grandchild are doing fine. My mom went to both weddings. The Hindu wedding had a program with instructions and explanations for the non-Hindu guests. After she got home from the wedding, I read the program and explained it to my mom so she would know what it was she saw. Very culturally broadening for all concerned. Anyway, I need to get the booties to the little tyke before he outgrows them.
In other news, it’s 20F/-6.6C at the moment, as we’ve had another cold front come through. It’s also “pelleting” (sleeting), although it sounds like soft rain. Since the streets will probably be like glass, it’ll be Demolition Derby day here in town, so I think I’ll stay in.
I made a video of it, mostly to capture the sound of it, but according to the arcane rules of WordPress, I have to upload it to YouTube before I can put it in my blog. You get a brief glimpse of the Crayola in its shed. You will also notice how the leaky roof of the car port has ruined part of the siding on the front part of it. Fortunately, that pole and the pole just to the right of it are not load-bearing, or the whole car port roof would have collapsed instead of just the sheetrock on its ceiling, as both poles are much the worst from getting saturated with water whenever it rains any appreciable amount.
Also, after the snow last week, we had a visitor, likely the aforementioned feral tomcat.