Sleeping patterns; first journal entry; second entry; limb cutting; migraine possibility; Upgrading DSL service - part II and the vagaries of human existence; Incense and more - again

The new web security suite was doing its anti-virus / anti-spyware scan that took hours. Plus I had a headache, so back to bed I went.

But then I woke up around midnight and did the first journal entry of the day. Back to bed.

At 6:30 or so, the felines were bouncing around wanting their morning meal, so I fed them. And made my second journal entry. But the morning doze of meds always makes me drowsy, so again I slipped under the covers. Plus again I didn't feel too good - congestion and headache.

I woke up at 11:45, just in time to note that the limb cutting trucks from the power company were here limb cutting. The twenty feet of my property nearest the street was littered with limbs. And some were fairly sizable. From one side of the property to the other, including the drive. Just as I realized this, the all left, no doubt, for lunch. Leaving a thicket of debris in my drive.

"What idiocy is this?" I thought. How fucking stupid. What if I need to go somewhere or have an emergency. I came in did some laundry and had lunch. I pulled out the phone book to find the number for the power company, when they re-appeared. But moved up several more houses.

Shortly, a man appears and begins to move the limbs out of the way. I walked out and explained my concern. After the third word out of my mouth, I knew I needed large flash cards - as follows: house; car; driveway; tree limbs in driveway; street; car in driveway; me; me getting into car; me backing down the drive; me getting out of car and looking at debris; me looking at debris talking on cordless phone with large thought baloon above my head filled with expletitives.

I was very calm, very polite, almost self-effacing. I made no effort to throw the phone at the man as so many movie celebs might have done.

I came back in and did make a call to the power company and was told someone would contact me with 24 - 48 hours. Equally polite, I might add.

This is such a simple thing for the crews to do: always make sure the drives are clear. It's very, very bad for customer relations to make a person feel they are physically cut off. There such a strong psychological implication of incarceration .

Oh, I took another nap at 4 and woke up at 6. And here I am. Obviously, there's an upper respiratory / migriane problem at play here. Hence all the weird sensations of feeling exhausted.

Since I had the cordless phone in hand, I thought I'd call Bell South or Cingular or AT&T, or whoever they are these days. And ask about upgrading my DSL service.

My first attempt was to the number on the letter I'd received. Now remember this letter was to people who already have DSL service. The customer service system has a voice activiated component. I spoke my phone number in my bext approximation of BBC English, and it immediately said, "I didn't get that!"

So I punch in my number and am given a number of options. After which a voice comes on and says, "If you're an existing DSL customer, please hang up and call xxx-xxx-xxxx." WHAT!

OK! I hang up and call that number, and I finally get someone who says his name is "Bob Smith," or something like that. Even though his Indian subcontinent accent is as telling as Cockney English. I remember reading in "Wired" that this was one of the new tricks of the Indian customer service center - that is for the techs to provide an American name.

I tell "Bob" my problem, and guess what. I'm fucking disconnected. Jesus H. Christ! This does not bode well for the new BS/ATT.

I go through the process again. This time I get "Carl," who is very smooth and very sharp and extremly helpful. Great!

By the way, I'm moving up to a service called Xtreme 6.0 which is 6 Mbps downstream and 512 Kbps upstream. The down is four times what I have now; the up is double my present speed. All this for only $10 more a month.

"Wired" has also told me that the unemployment in India is so terrible that service teach jobs are almost fought over. For all I know, Carl may have had a doctorate in astrophysics. But this is the only job he could get. And he may work out of a ratty cubicle in a delipated 19th century English warehouse.

I now have about ten cartons of incense, so I was trying to figure out to organize them. The ones I've opened I've placed in the metal cylindrical container I got last week. The opened and unopened boxed I've placed in the metal mesh basket I'd originally bought for the gemstones. But then Tiger, Tiger viewed it as a useful substitute for the cat litter box.

I have no idea what most of the fragrances are. Nor do I know what substances comprise the sticks. I did notice on the cartons from Blyth HomeScents International, Made in the Kingdom of Thailand, there's a warning that reads "This product contains a chemical known to the State of California to cause cancer and birth defects or other reproductive harm." Well, that certainly makes me feel all warm and fuzzy.

At present, I'm burning "Chandan" sticks from India. These are in a box with text that says, "Ever since the glorious times of Vedic India Chandan holds a venerated position. Its (difficult to make out word) touch to the human body is cooling and pacifying, Its fragrance purifying as a 'puja Samagri.' Chandan has few equals."

Earlier I was using another Blyth HomeScents product called "Dragon's Blood." The sticks are bright red, and I noticed they create a linear smoke trail of about twelve inches that then spirals. But this is the first time I've noticed the smoke, so the lighting conditions have to be just right. In this case, there was enough light from outside to highlight the smoke. I've turned on a lamp behind the incense tray, but the smoke doesn't show up.

PAX!