Shoot, missed the comet. Well, I was working. And watching Wartime Farm.

Well, couldn't see anything, I think there are trees in the way from my patio. But my towels were finally dry, so that's taken care of. And I might actually have a better view of the correct spot from my bedroom window, I will check tomorrow's moon position.

Flea, her being director of a homeless shelter has nothing to do with the price she should pay for your home. If she offers a fair price, then you always have the option of donating a portion to the shelter. Or if someone else pays a fair price you could do that. If you don't feel obligated to donate cash (and you shouldn't) then there is no need to feel obligated to come down on price. Of course you already know this, but I'm hoping seeing it in writing will get the message to your subconscious and drive away the vague feeling.

Google Doodle is AWESOME!

Is it kvetching time?

I was helping my dad with his taxes, and since he didn't have the paperwork from Social Security for either one of them, I tried to get into my mother's bank account online to see what she got for SSA payments last year. OMG what a trial dealing with Wells Fargo was.

I get not being willing to talk to someone who calls and says they're the account-holders daughter, sure. But even after bein on the phone with Dad and him confirming his identity, they kept him on the phone for like fifteen minutes, trying to UPSELL him on a savings account, another bank account, moving his account from BofA to WF, and even life insurance!

They would NEVER have done that to me, and I'm sure it's because Dad sounds like what he is: a slightly confused 85-year-old. I was so angry, and since he's also really nice and polite it took him forever to get off the phone. If it had been me I would have said, "No thanks, I'm done," and just hung up. ARGH. Assholes.

And in other parental news, Mom's mobility has decreased even further. I don't know what to do. I can call the PT again, even though she thinks it won't do any good. And I guess I ask the residence staff about getting Dad more help with transfers.

Why is this becoming my full-time job?

I have hidden the Samoas behind the water crackers (which, in case you're curious, is the same recipe used for hardtack). Nobody will ever find them.

Also, all the miniature Cadbury Creme Eggs have been consumed. (Not by me.)

Why is this becoming my full-time job?

I'm just glad you got them into assisted living when you did.

I'm going to go try and see a comet tonight! Luckily a just past dusk one. So if it doesn't work out, and that's a possibility, it'll be an early night.

No comet. Thankfully we could move the car as a place to watch for a while because it was so, so cold at Key's View and very, very windy. Solidly 25 degrees colder than my house and windy. Still, the sunset and then stars coming out were spectacular. No comet though.

Oh well.

I don't know what to do. I can call the PT again, even though she thinks it won't do any good. And I guess I ask the residence staff about getting Dad more help with transfers.

You can call the PT if she'll comply and follow through but otherwise, I think your best choice is to get Dad more hep with transfers. It sucks and it's hard.

Am I the only one who does not find Russell Brand remotely funny?

Russell "he fucked your granddaughter!" Brand? Yeah, no. Not funny.

I've been shunted to a different desk today (not unusual, it's why I have a laptop) and the keyboard here SUCKS. Typos everywhere.

Just had the most bizarre difference of opinion with Hubby, over the musical talents and general worthwhileness of Katy Perry. He quite likes her, I find her fairly insipid. He keeps trying to show me videos of her that he thinks show depth and I have problems getting past the cleavage sparks of "Firework." I have no idea why he feels so strongly about this, but I guess kudos to him staying current with modern music.