little_tristan: (Gilead Gunslingers)
For some reason Mark woke me up at three this morning. He gets up early, I get up early? That was not in the vows.

Ebay has been kind enough to throw me a couple more pairs of jeans that Mark can wear. Man thing: I didn't know he needed pants because there are at least 5 pairs lying around the bedroom. Draped over the heater we don't use, sticking out from under the bed, just kind of everywhere. I don't dress him or do the laundry, so how was I supposed to know he only considers two of them wearable?

Other man thing: Russ has been letting me buy him socks that are too small for, I don't know, ten years. Why would he not tell me he needs bigger socks? Are big feet an embarrassment for big men? Is he a girl? Commune Purchasing Officer is a hard job enough without all this disinformation re: socks.

Heather is learning the second hardest way why people don't let toddlers play with their Kindle Fires. I gave her an Otterbox to save her the hardest lesson, but the little boogersnot--the same kid who tells his mother in complete sentences that he has to poop and then hides in a closet to do it in his pants because he wants privacy--has figured out that hitting certain buttons makes the games better. By buying upgrades. Which are then charged to me.

Am I the only one who thinks Amazon should require a password when buying apps and upgrades within apps? iTunes does, and it's not nearly as good as Amazon in most other ways. I wouldn't mind if Heather was buying them. She has good sense. Her son, otoh, thinks nothing of billing me $7 so he can have a wider variety of Angry Birds.

Maybe there's a way to turn off One-Click on certain devices. That can be my project for the day.
little_tristan: (Firefly See Kaylee Smile)
As you may have guessed, there were tacos! And not just any tacos. Today has been declared National Taco Day in Gilead and we expect to celebrate it annually. Yes, Steve cooked. His gf was over to get him and Monkey, but since he's laid down the law about not leaving before the boys get home, she doesn't get here until he's free to leave. I thought she was getting here early to spend the maximum amount of time with him, but it turns out that was all about getting him out early. Anyway, she was going to drive him to the store to get meat and joking about buying steak instead of hamburger since we're paying. I said if he wanted to use good meat, we had a whole tenderloin in the fridge that was on sale last weekend. So we're talking fillet mignon tacos here. With pan fried tortillas, which I'd also never had. I don't know if I can ever go back to hamburger. And Taco Bell? Can suck it.

Fortunately it didn't rain until late so Monkey got to play outside a lot. Mostly with the weird kid from across the street, who turned out to be pretty normal up close. Most people do. It's been murder on Steve trying to get his work done and look after both of us at the same time, but he did an amazing job. I know he feels bad about dropping an unexpected kid on me for two straight days, and for a half hour or so this morning I was kind of trembling on the edge, but it's not his fault. He pretty much turned his life over to the gf when he gave his heart to her kids.

Anyway, I got some reading in and almost wrote something at one point. It's a bummer that I didn't actually, but a major sign of improvement that I wanted to rather than just feeling like I should. Hopefully I can wrap up this scene tomorrow. If there's time with the showering and grocery shopping and all the other stuff I need to do so I can be gone Sunday. Okay, maybe writing on Monday. But I swear I'll be thinking about it the whole time.
little_tristan: (Bloom County cutter john)
It's actually been pretty fun. Steve's gf was here this morning and she left her five year old Monkey for him to watch. I don't know exactly how that conversation went, but it resulted in an extra hand dusting this morning and a trip to the park this afternoon. It never did rain, or get hot.

The park is a long walk for a five year old, so Monkey got to ride in my lap (safely buckled in, of course). Steve rode his bike and left us there for a minute while he went to the store for refreshments. I watched Monkey play on the structure until he got back and then it was time for more disc golf. Monkey is surprisingly good at it, although having an audience seems to be throwing Steve. I almost told him to relax, he already knows I'm going home with him, but that would just throw him off worse. ;)

He played one round and then we stopped so Monkey could climb and slide some more. They played a few more holes before he got bored again and there was more swinging and climbing. I have video. We walked all the way back through the park and Steve rode him around on his bike for a while, until they had one of those minor accidents that are the reason you only let kids ride on your bike on soft grass (if at all). Monkey cried and Steve was competent and comforting and five minutes later we were on our way home to make supper. Right now he's playing at the neighbors' while Steve cooks. Apparently Monkey's also staying the night.

While all this was going on, something else happened. It started yesterday when I picked up my prescriptions at Walgreens. There were supposed to be three and I didn't notice until I got home and opened the bags that the Vicodin was missing. This morning I checked on my iPhone app to see if it was ready yet, but it said that it had been picked up.

I called the pharmacy and explained it to the manager, thinking it was a mistake and this highly controlled narcotic was just sitting on the shelf, the victim of a clerical error. But no. He checked the computer and verified my part of the story. That I paid for the ones I actually got at about a quarter to noon. It also said that the Vicodin wasn't filled until about a quarter past two, more than two hours after we left, and was sold about two hours after that. That put it between four and four-thirty, when we were all home watching tv and eating supper like we do every afternoon. The manager said he'd check the videotape and get back to me.

I kept thinking about the rude clerk, whom I've never seen there before, and the dudebro in the sunglasses. It's hard to pick up a script like that. You need to know things about yourself that match the info in their computer. The only thing that made sense was that the clerk, or another staff member, pocketed it or sold it to an accomplice (this sounds paranoid but we were victims of a credit card scam a few years ago that was way more complex). That would make the perpetrator stupid, because if it had been filled on time s/he could have easily said it was in the bag and I couldn't have proven it wasn't.

What I was later told was that it got mixed in with someone else's prescriptions and given to them, although it still scanned out to me. I got my refill for free, ultimately, and I hope whoever actually got my original one is okay. Assuming that's really what happened. It also sounds like something you'd tell a customer when you're potentially seriously fucked and don't want it to go public. Like if I get my pills and someone gets fired, there's no need to make a big fuss.

I still haven't decided if I'm okay with that.

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little_tristan

March 2013

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