I finally sucked it up and just bought another wireless router. I ended up getting a D-Link at Target since everything else comparable was about the same price. I didn't want to spend the money but with Cavan taking four classes in two summer sessions I can't expect him not to use the Internet. I imagine somewhere there are cables long enough to reach from the modem to his room and into his desktop but then we'd have to figure out a way to split it so that I could get online too. It just seemed like a hassle and unfair to him. Since my router stopped working at all I couldn't even keep two LAN cables plugged in to the ports in the back.
It's been cold and wet all weekend. Everything in the house feels damp and gross. There's an odd smell inside.
I worked yesterday morning so I didn't get to see the parade downtown. I was planning on attending Gay Pride in Indy this year since I haven't been in so long. Whether you're G/L/B/T/Whatever I think it's important to show up for events just to lend support. Charlie joked that I'd have to perpetually hold his hand so no guys would hit on him. I said it would be funny if one of the news stations tried to interview him and imagined he would keep interjecting how he was there “for friends” over and over again.
I've had too much coffee the past few days. I think the caffeine is lending to some cysts I've developed; one behind my ear and one in a really uncomfortable place that is not the backseat of a Volkswagen. I'm scheduled every day this week, several 6am and 7am shifts, though, so more caffeine is definitely in my immediate future. I just can't show up for work at six in the morning, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, serving people drinks like they expect without a few shots of espresso to start the day.
The dog we're hosting for a friend hasn't escaped from the house since Friday. We've been very careful about opening doors and making sure someone is holding his collar. I'm afraid I lost my temper a bit the last time it happened (four times in three days) and was cursing his name in the middle of the street, crying, as I watched him dart into someone's driveway right while they were pulling in with their huge Suburban. I was seeing his short life flash before my eyes and imagining that horrible conversation: “Hey, sorry if this ruins your vacation but . . .”