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Having worked Friday, Saturday and Sunday evening, and chafed at the necessity of doing so puts a completely different face on Monday, when my time becomes my own again.  I deeply resent having to work, but the fact of the matter is, Social Security is not supporting me in the style to which I’m a customer.  On the other hand, I have now reached the age where I can make as much money as I want without having my Social Security benefits reduced.   Whee!

Speaking of work, in the Voice Recognition Software Strikes Again category, tonight’s winner is: “The patient’s daughter noticed some segmented urine.”  (sediment in the urine). Sometimes the things the software conjures up out of the mumbles in the background noise give my brain whiplash, for example:  “Fall with portable fracture.” (vertebral fracture).

In other news, mom and I went to Red Lobster for Easter Sunday lunch.  Church ran long, and it was almost 1 o’clock before we got to the restaurant.   I was sent inside to get us put on the list for a table while mom parked the car because even on “normal days” you usually have to wait 10-15 minutes or more for a table, and it takes forever to get your food.  This being a holiday, I walked in expecting a mob scene, and there was only one person in the lobby:  The  hostess (the employee in charge of seating customers). It was eerie.  We were seated immediately.  We had a salad, hand breaded shrimp and a baked potato.  We had hardly started on our salads when here came our entree.   It was like something out of the Twilight Zone.

I’m about to the point of calling the apartment manager and saying, “Just give me the track strip for the closet doors.  I’ll put it on myself.”   It’s a strip of metal that’s held to the top of the closet door opening with screws.  I have a cordless drill.  I can screw and unscrew screws.  It would take less than 10 minutes.  I’m going to take the doors down, take them outside and lean them up against the wall next to my door.  Maybe that will light a fire under them.  Still no dishwasher.  I’d be willing to bet they’ve installed it in another apartment to replace a broken dishwasher.  Sigh.

 

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