Cat (willowisp) wrote,

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Even though I got to bed very late last night, I didn't try to go back to sleep after kitty feeding time. I got the bear boxed (thanks to turnberryknkn, who sent Andy a Build-A-Bear to celebrate his successful defense, I had a box of the perfect size) and took him to the Post Office. Hopefully he'll arrive at his new home later this week. I then headed over to one of the most evil places in the world: Wal-Mart.

A while back we started hearing a clicking when we first drove the car for the day. As per Murphy's corollary (Everything that can go wrong will unless the mechanic's in the car), it never did so when Andy's parents were in it, but Tom recommended an oil change and adding STP. Thus began the adventure. The first part was easy -- I got the car signed in and asked them to replace anything which needed it and specified the air filter. I also bought the bottle of STP for them to add. I spent the hour they said it would take walking around the store (but not impulse buying anything, not even some wonderfully soft sweaters). I finally headed back just in case they were having problems with the car.

I then encountered the first problem: they couldn't find the key I'd left. That was solved after I told them it should be in or near a bag with STP in it. I went and read a few books in the children's section, which is conveniently close to automotive, and paced a lot. Eventually my name was called. I read over the sheet and realized they claimed to have checked the air filter but not replaced it. One air filter purchase later and I got to enter the forbidden-to-customers bay. The guy said the air filter really needed to be changed. I was already aware of this since the last time they'd said it needed to be replaced but they were out of the part for Civics.

Then I realized I didn't have the STP receipt, which needed to be kept around in order to reconcile it with the eventual statement. The woman misunderstood my question and thought I was saying they hadn't added it. I assured her that I thought no such thing, but I just needed the receipt from the bag in the bay. She sent me out to get it, and imagine my surprise in finding the unopened bottle. It turns out the guy who started working on the Civic had gone on break and hadn't mentioned the STP to the one who took over. They were nice and drained/refilled the oil so they could add the stuff.

I was happy with my treatment there, by-the-by. The guys were exceedingly impressed that I was taking an active part in making sure the car got taken care of, and said they wished there were more customers who replaced parts which needed it. Still, I was happy to get going toward home. There was no clicking, though it may've been because the car had already been driven today. The telling point will be when I go to vote tomorrow.

I got home, ate a very late lunch, then went for my walk. Since it was earlier than usual I saw birds and other people as well as one or both bunnies (the second one which I saw would have had to have hopped very fast to get where the second one was, which makes me think it was the other bunny) and Cornelius, who came over to accept payment of kitty tax. It's nice now that the weather has cooled down; I even have to wear a sweatshirt in the earlier rounds.

I spent the next few hours tearing through some easy crossword puzzles interspersed with foozling the kitties and cleaning. I ate dinner fairly late and was hungrier than I should have been. I've had a lot of trouble feeling "full" in the recent past. I'm hoping my body will eventually figure out when it's had enough and stop sending signals to the brain when it doesn't need any more, but unless/until that happens, I just need to keep from eating until I get uncomfortably stuffed.

On a completely other note, I mentioned yesterday that I'd finally ordered the pictures, since I had given up on hearing from Sandra or Uncle Rich. So of course I got mail from Sandy today saying that she was on vacation but will develop the pictures as soon as possible and get some of them to me. I'm hoping she'll let me keep the pictures for the album so I don't have to do another order, complete with shipping, before I can send the album back to Grandpa. At least we now have reason to believe that he'll be with us for a little longer, so I don't have to race quite so much to get it back to him. If we still thought he was going off of chemo and would be gone very quickly I would not have waited this long to order prints, nor would I wait to get Sandy's lot.

Andy called three times today; I was home for two of them. The first was just prior to his interview; he left a message saying to call him back if I got home before 15:30, and I got home at about 15:35. I tried to call, but he was already heading for the interview. Anyway, he called afterward to tell me it was over, then a bit later to see if we could track down a pizzeria. After he ate dinner he logged on. He can't tell how the interview went except to say he thought it went better the more the day progressed. Several of the interviewers were asking him elementary cs-math questions, and he couldn't tell if they wanted immediate solutions or to see how he worked through them. He had a better time with a more technical person who asked Open-GL and Perl questions, and was even more comfortable talking systems with the fifth interviewer.

I'm already counting down the hours to when the itinerary says his plane will touch down. There's still another day of interviews between now and then. I hope tomorrow's start where today's left off, rather than beginning at the frustrating level again.
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