I just need to vent

Fuck. This is turning into one of those days when minor little annoyances just keep piling on. I woke up out of sorts and I don’t know why, except that I got to bed very late this morning (4:00 a.m.). I had a good time on Tuesday night (despite the sad occasion for the meeting–we went to Joe McGee’s wake together) having dinner with NEHW friends at an Indian restaurant in Worcester. I’d brought home part of my entree and I was going to eat it today. But when I opened it, the server had put white rice into my food. I’d said when we ordered that I couldn’t eat rice but I guess she forgot. I never thought she would dump the rice from the communal rice platter into my entree. So I had to throw the Indian food away and find something else to eat. It’s not like you can pick white rice out of sauce. 🙁

UPS did its usual sneak-drop-and-run pass of my door during the ten minutes I was in the shower, and left a package intended for my neighbors down the street. In all fairness to UPS, the package had my address, but the neighbors’ name and phone number. So I needed to go out and drop the package off on the neighbors’ porch. Then I went to the post office and waited behind a woman who had a whole stack of cards that all had to be individually weighed and stickered because there was something non-standard about their size or weight.

My brother-in-law had given me a link for something he wanted for Christmas, a replacement part for his espresso maker. I ordered it, and last night he sent me a completely different link! The one I ordered arrived today, and I think it’s actually the same item. I’m not sure, because my brother-in-law won’t tell me the make and model of his espresso maker (which I asked him for). Now I’m not sure if the one I just got is right or not.

My dad had said he would stop by today after he went shopping and leave some things for me. He said he’d call before he got here. He didn’t call and I almost didn’t hear the knock on the door because I had earplugs in due to hammering next door. Dad had called me on Tuesday afternoon all confused about his Tracfone, and I wanted to log into the Tracfone website and get it updated while I had dad’s cell phone right in my hand. But dad was so fidgety and anxious to get home that he didn’t want to wait, and I ended up not getting the stupid cell phone figured out. Dad keeps me on the phone for a lot longer than that with his computer or technical problems, and it’s agonizing because he doesn’t understand what I’m talking about, I can’t figure out what he’s talking about, he complains I go too fast, and it all turns into Tech Support Hell. I’m going to have to drive all the way up there to finish getting his cell phone updated. Meanwhile, he doesn’t have a cell phone.

Dad said he had several of those folding wheeled luggage carriers and offered me one. I’ve been intending to buy one to carry boxes of books and so on at conventions. But I need one that will fold up compactly (otherwise it’s a nuisance in the hotel room), and that will hold varying sizes of boxes, luggage, and so on. Dad brought me one that is large and awkward when folded and opens into a four-sided metal basket that is too small to hold the boxes of books or almost anything else I take to cons. So I had to thank him but refuse. *sigh*

Dad didn’t go to rehab this morning because he says he’s been having these painful cramps in his legs waking him up at night and his legs are too sore. He says this is a chronic problem he occasionally has, and I sometimes get them, too, although not as severe as his apparently are. I offered to rub his calves for him but he refused. I know he just wanted to go home and lie down for a nap with his cat on the bed next to him. But now I’m worried about him–which I always am, anyway. 🙁

I resigned from the Board of Directors of Independent Publishers of New England on Tuesday and didn’t even make a ripple! They don’t miss me at all! I don’t think they’ve even noticed–I got e-mail comments from two people, one of whom isn’t currently on the Board. Oh, well, best of luck to them.

I wish I could post about my professional doings like my writer friends do. But I can’t. I can’t talk about all my publishing work–the queries and manuscripts I’m reading, the editing I’m doing, the likely authors I might be signing, and so on–because of confidentiality. I really wish I knew more small publishers who are doing what I do, writing contracts and publishing other authors and paying out royalties and so on. All the people I’ve met in the publishing world are self-publishers or people who work for big firms. Nobody knows what I do with all my time because I can’t talk about it. It must sound like I spend all my days goofing off. *sigh*

Maybe I’ll feel better tomorrow. I tend to get the most accomplished on Friday, Saturday and Sunday–provided it’s not a holiday and I don’t have some committment scheduled, which I don’t–at least, I don’t think so! I ended up going to Parish Committee meeting on Monday night and it wasn’t on my agenda!