Spam, fortunes, and dust
Spam report: I just noticed that I've received 368 pieces of spam in the past 24 hours. On the one hand, the fact that I hadn't noticed before is a testament to the powers of the new Eudora spam filter. On the other hand, that's a lot of spam. One every four minutes, all day and all night.
Fortune report: In an entry back in April, I listed a bunch of fortunes I'd gathered that were at least mildly entertaining when followed by ". . . in bed!" While packing this evening, I've found half a dozen others lying around here and there:
- Find the road to happiness by helping others.
- Many receive advice, only the wise profit by it.
- A pleasant surprise is in store for you.
- There is a prospect of a thrilling time ahead for you.
- Your greatest fortune is the large number of friends you have.
- Your home is a pleasant place from which you draw happiness.
- You will have good luck in business affairs.
- You will have no problems in your home.
And my favorite of this batch:
You will get to know yourself better when you do something foolish and fun.
Dust report: Packing sure does kick up a lot of dust. At least, if you've let a lot of dust accumulate on all surfaces in your room for longer than you're willing to admit. I've been sneezing a lot tonight. It's also making my mouth dry; luckily, I now have a solution for that problem, because I went and bought some bottled water. The tap water at my place has tasted fine for six and a half years, but a week or so ago it suddenly started tasting really terrible. I suspect that the water helped produce my sore throat (it leaves a really unpleasant taste/sensation in my throat when I drink it), and I know it's indirectly left me dehydrated 'cause I can't force myself to drink much of it. I thought it was just my apartment, but the water at my new place tastes the same. So it's bottled water for me for the duration.
Fridge report: Home Depot lost a sale this evening by being annoying. (To be fair, I might not have bought from them anyway.) (And actually, they almost lost a sale much earlier, because their website doesn't admit that they carry refrigerators.) The sales guy started out very friendly, but gradually got snarky as he realized that I was going to be slow and indecisive. "I'd hate to see how long it must've taken you to decide on a car!" he said at one point, and (when I was opening and closing various floor-model fridge doors to see what the differences were between them) "You're gonna wear those things out," and (when I asked for a printout of information about a fourth and last fridge) "How many of these are you going to look at?" (I suspect he meant the first few jabs as friendly banter, but there was an edge even to those, and he'd clearly lost patience with me by the time of that last comment.) It seems reasonable to me to not make snap decisions about a several-hundred-dollar purchase that's supposed to sit in a prominent place in your house for ten to twenty years (especially since I have to make a lot of compromises to fit an unusually small space in an unusually small kitchen), but I guess he didn't see it that way. Anyway, so I'll go look at fridges elsewhere in the morning, but it seems clear that I'm going to have no access to refrigeration for at least a couple days early next week. Sigh. I really should've hired a move planner to guide me through all this.
Okay, enough. A little more packing, maybe some belated editing, then sleep.