I've mentioned my constant, recurring issues around my bed.
No, it's not what you think.
Normal people can walking into the room and fall into bed.
Like the rest of my life, I am not normal.
Mrs lefty twirls.
While this is not a problem for anybody, it winds up being mine, because she twirls while attached to sheets and blankets. Many times, in the middle of the night, I wake to find myself completely without sheet or blanket. I don't hold her responsible; after all, she left me damn near 6" of blanket. She has a death grip on said blanket and has twirled herself into a calzone, so, like most men, I won't be getting any. My guilt over possibly waking her falls prey to freezing my ass off and I pull.
Nope.
I pull harder. There is a result this time: she grabs the blanket
harder, chastising me in some language even
she doesn't know, and rolls away further.
As a concession, she left most of the blanket on my side.
This is a direct take on "Kick the ball, Charlie Brown." I fall for it every time.
Within an hour, she has twirled herself into all of the available covers, not even leaving me my customary 6".
As a 2nd concession, we got out two blankets.
The 1st night, she twirled the entire sheet. It's ok, I had a blanket.
The 2nd night, she got the blanket too.
When I mentioned this, my voice quaking from the shivering from the pneumonia I got, she giggled and said she was sorry. This I understand. What I don't understand is why she keeps asking me to get additional life insurance. She tells me it's to take care of her in case anything happens to me. I want that for her, so we're pretty well-insured. There's a delicate balance between Enough and "If I get more, she'll kill me and they'll never find the body." It's a hell of a dance, believe me. She watches those true crime tv shows. Nothing wrong with this; millions watch these at the same time. But when I watch it with her, her lips move, as if she's telling them what to do next. Sometimes she says it out loud, half a second before they do. The most scary time is shows like Deadly Women, where women perform unspeakable acts upon their spouse, not just killing them, but making them writhe in agony, like a cat torturing a mouse. My fear-based shaking is only made worse when she cheers as the man finally dies. She jumps up and down on the couch, squealing and clapping her hands, like an 8 year old girl with pompoms. It is at times like these, I become invisible as quickly as possible, and hide in the Panic Room.
So, we have 2 sheets and 2 blankets. This is a workable solution, and now I wake up without her having twirled a single item of my sleeping equipment. Unfortunately, said equipment is still missing. Instead of falling victim to twirling, it has fallen to gravity. I wake up, every night, to find most of my blanket on the floor. This is a new thing, which bears further study, like how the Roseanne show has no Roseanne. Yet every time I get into bed, it has been rearranged, kinda like our kitchen. "Honey, where's the honey?" It's on the washer. "But yesterday you said it was in the pantry. The washer's in the basement." Yes, I rearranged. "You should probably tell me when you make minor adjustments, like putting the washer in the basement." Sorrrry. One night the covers are in place. The next night, they aren't. The next next night, they're on the dresser. Sometimes they're in the middle of the bed, in a knot. On really good nights, the pillow and covers are hanging in midair, by themselves.
Wife pointed to dog. This is a very effective technique because when I ask the dog if she did it, or any question at all, she wags her tail and tries to lick my face. So I generally re-make my bed nightly. Making the bed is like washing the car: why bother? It's only gonna get dirty again anyway.
So aside from that, everything's fine.
Well, except for the dog.
Penny, for some reason, loves to tunnel and cocoon herself in blankets. She arrived with the customary complement of fur and plays outside in the snow, so it's safe to say she's not cold. Yet she burrows into blankets. Every morning, we have to play Spot the Cocker in the blankets, so we don't trample her on the mad rush to get out of bed and make coffee, stopping every other day or so to get dressed.
When Penny's not cocooned, she's usually in the middle somewhere. Sometimes between pillows, sometimes on
my pillow. Always adorable, that dog. She came in a perfectly normal dog, and within months, she sits at the door and whines when her mommy leaves.
One of the best nights barely even involved cover twirling.
A very smart woman, Mrs lefty discovered the key to a long marriage is never seeing each other, so she sleeps when I'm awake and vice-versa. Her schedule got messed up and she somehow wound up in bed when I was. I would have been shocked and pleasantly surprised, but I didn't notice her get in. In fact, I don't notice her get out either. My body did me one favor in all the time I've had it: it adjusted itself to sleep in the middle of tank battles on a small tactical nuclear weapons testing range. This is because she gets into and out of bed every 20 minutes. She'll start snoring, then leap up and say she'll never get any sleep, and wander out of the room. My body realized it would be 6' underground if it got up every time she did, so it lets me sleep.
So I'm having a great time, sleeping, even though I think I'm not, when I hear SSSHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. That's code for "you're snoring, you idiot. Cut it
out, before we play Famous Female Murderers." Feeling great guilt (it's my heritage), I leap for my Snore Stopper. It's a very strange device she got me. It looks like any normal black hood - the kind an executioner might wear, but it's got extra padding around the mouth and nose area. My theory on how it works is that it stops snoring by a process called Air Reduction: if I don't get a lot of air, I don't snore. I could be mistaken, but she assures me it works and tells me to keep wearing it. Even when she's not in bed. I reach for my handy earphone, where my phone plays things to make me sleep, like recordings of singer of hit records getting tortured (which generally sounds like them
performing the hit records). Finding the cord, I pick it up, at which point the phone goes rocketing to the floor. Now here's the strange part: Wife strongly objects to my snoring, but she doesn't hear my fusillade of cursing, having seen the phone go down
again. Reaching around the floor, in the dark, I locate the cord, but the phone is nowhere to be found. I gave up, figuring it would let me know where it was when it rang. I later found it, 6' in the air, with the pillow. I reached for the Hood Stopper and immediately fell out of bed. It's ok - the large pointy metal table caught me.
Amityville ain't got nothin' on us.
Why, you ask, did I fall out of bed? Is it because I'm the worst kind of klutz imaginable? While that is true, that's not the reason. No, I fell off because I have literally 6" of bed to myself. My little darling dog has her head on a spare pillow and the back of her across my spot. If she were sleeping any closer, she would have been inside my stomach. I attempted to move her, where I was as successful as de-twirling Wife, and cherished my 6".
Wait, that didn't come out right...
My work computer is confused.
I put it to sleep last night, because I always like saying that.
This morning it stared at me, with only a white screen, silently mocking me.
Everything I had going on when I put it to sleep (all saved) was lost, as it continued to sit there, like Rob Reiner, but making no noise.
I hard rebooted. It slogged on, barely booting.
I think I surprised it. It just wasn't ready to boot up.
It's like walking through molasses, which is how a friend describes depression.
Maybe my computer is depressed.
There's yet another program with an issue: Microsoft Teams.
I installed it for a single presentation, so now it remains, thinking it's a VIP (Very Important Program). While booting, the Teams screen comes up. NO - I DON'T want this friggin program coming up, so I hit CLOSE. Not content with my very clear answer, it brings up a FULL PAGE notice that something's wrong with Teams and maybe I should reboot. Something's wrong with
Windows, but rebooting ain't gonna fix it. When this crap is over, I start Office. Office has a long history of never coming up the way you left it. If I drag the window to a custom size, it opens larger, or full page. This is a known issue, across several releases. Microsoft apparently doesn't care enough to do anything about it, preferring instead that Office just take over all available screen real estate... it just does what it wants. You can count on it to open in any size (except the one you left it in). This is closely related to Skype, which you physically cannot resize below about 25% of the screen. It just stops at that size, obstructing whatever else is on the screen. Microsoft is such a small company, they can't afford anybody to fix these bugs.
Speaking of which, a Microsoft employee just mentioned on Twitter that he's switching his primary development computer to linux.
Stress, Heart Attacks, and 135 with coronavirus
Japanese health officials on Monday confirmed an additional 65 cases of 2019 novel coronavirus (2019-nCoV) infections aboard the quarantined luxury cruise ship, Diamond Princess, bringing the ship’s case total to 135.
Wow.. think good thoughts for these people, pray, whatever.
They're in a sealed incubator.
- The FDA has approved the first drug to treat peanut allergies.
- It's delivered in a Snickers bar.
Users of Skype or any program that shows availability of team members will find this familiar: my coworker is shown as
Presenting. This is a technical term for 'presenting'. They're probably sharing their computer's screen to a lot of people. This affords the perfect opportunity for a little Work Hijinks<tm>. When you're bored and your friends are presenting, send them texts. The texts will appear on their desktop, allowing the entire meeting to see them....
- were you serious about the sex change?
- did you ever get to the sex shop for that weird toy you mentioned?
- how are the hemorrhoids?
- I can't believe your boss is as big an ass as you said
A nasty Google bug sent private Google photos and videos to others.
Yeah, I got a video of Mike Pence in a black robe, chanting Satan this and Satan that....
- If there's one thing Iowa proved, it's that beta testing software should happen before it's used.
- If there's another thing Iowa proved, they shouldn't use software from groups directly tied to the Clinton campaign.
- Another thing is that Vermin Supreme is doing very well in the polls. This has got to terrify certain groups....
People are popping up all over the place with the coronavirus.
This proves, once again, that there are certain advantages to being an amateur agoraphobe.
- It is not polite to hit family members with a baseball bat. I know this now.
After racist incidents between students in Michigan, the school district called a meeting to heal divisions. You guessed it - the parents brawled.
Dear lefty:
- Are laptop cooling pads worth the money?
- Depends on how hot you like your crotch
We just saw a great video (not linkable) of a lady in the Iowa Caucus. She voted, signed, and handed her vote in. At some point, somebody informs her that Pete Buttigieg is gay and married to a man. The lady kinda talks through her laughter, and said REALLY? She then asks for her vote slip back.
Her vote counts as much as yours.
(provided it's counted)
Quickies:
- Here's a list of bad android apps - delete them immediately
- Remove bloatware from Windows 10 quickly and easily.,
- Why Your Next Cell Phone Should Be Unlocked
- If you're in the SE Pennsylvania area this year, you won't be able to swing a dead cat without hitting Cheap Trick.
Today I identify as cancer in Ted Kennedy's brain.
Heroes of the Stupid
Neanderthals’ relatives climbed an
erupting volcano 350,000 years ago
Big deal. Teenagers here ate Tide Pods.
Gwenyth Paltrow's company released a product that smells like vagina.
Now Erykah Badu released incense that smells like
her vagina.
Imagine being on the research and development team....
SJW SoCalled
"Your
racist coronavirus jokes aren't funny."
If I had any, they would be. Apparently, calling it "kung flu" offends people...
UN Women, doing the work of the Lord
Allowing white people to vote is systemic racism. Their children should be in the cages.
How about a smart device that could detect
implicit bias in the workplace?
UC Berkeley Students: We must do something about antisemitic incidents occurring on campus.
I did - I voted on a bill that condemned it!
Well, I tried to. The vote was interrupted by people chanting "Free free college."
UC Berkeley is a sitcom. Instead of laughing, the audience sits there, open-mouthed.
A remembrance
Elsewhere I told the story of my dear friend who left us way too early.
Right around today, it has been ten years.
Ten Years Gone.
Robert Plant and Jimmy Page wrote it. Plant was memorializing his son (Karac?), who had been ten years gone.
My friend liked when I taught her songs on guitar. She would study and practice them methodically. The last song I taught her was Ten Years Gone (a favorite of us both). When I say she practiced methodically, I mean she would sit there with her guitar, or any guitar that was laying around, and play the song. Over and over. As far as she could get, then start over from the top. Repetition drives me up several walls at the same time, so I'd frequently have to politely suggest she pick a different song (to drive me crazy with) or maybe could get something to eat.
She was very pretty and had the most amazing smile. The whole room laughed with her, especially when she made a rude comment or picked on me. She was obnoxious after a few beers sometimes, but never really reached my level (stop laughing - I am a certified professional in obnoxious and teach a master class in sarcasm). We laughed a lot and had a blast.
She'd probably smile and laugh about being attached to that song.
I loved the way she watched me when I played it.
Made me feel like a rock star.
I hope to see her again sometime....
Sleep well.
