Punk-Ass Book Jockey

So last night my sink broke. Again. The strainer and threaded bit (usually attached to each other) had cracked apart, and suddenly I had a big bloody hole under the tap, and a large puddle in the cabinet underneath.

It was too late to do anything about it, so I mopped up the worst of the puddle, went to bed, woke up reallllly early this morning and dragged myself off to WalMart, which is in the mall a block from my house.

(There is no hardware store, or Canadian Tire, or whathaveyou anywhere close. If I had any non-WalMart option, I would've taken it.)

So there I am at 7 in the morning, bleary-eyed, dressed half in my pajamas, and faced with the WalMart dayshift - that is, the finest that WalMart has to offer.

Which is when this happened:

Me (corralling nearest employee): Where's the hardware section?

Employee: Down these stairs. What do you need?

Me: I need a basket and strainer assembly for my sink.

Employee: (blank look)

Me: It's the bit that attaches the sink to the pipe? It's broken.

Employee: I'll take you to the hardwares staffer.

(She takes me to the hardwares staffer.)

Employee, to the hardwares dude: This lady needs some liquid plumber.

Me: No, that's not what I need. I need the actual piping.

Hardwares Dude: The piping.

Me: It's called a basket and strainer assembly?

Hardwares Dude: So, maybe a plumbing snake?

Me: NO.

Hardwares Dude: (looking futilely over their pitiful collection of house hardware) Maybe it's also called a flapper?

Me: ... That's a part of a toilet.

OH WALMART. Perhaps you should look for more qualified employees, and then pay them enough that they'll a)take the job and b)stick around.

Am sick.

Am listening to Pride & Prejudice and dosing myself with Buckleys.

Also, am mending socks.

Biggest waste of a weekend ever, y/y?

The PayPal people, in their wisdom, have given me back my money. The seller still hasn't written back with a mailing address, though, so it seems I'm the permanent, proud possessor of 44 discs of "The Weat Wing."

Whoop.

I love BookNinja, but this week the ironic and interesting book news George provided was offset by links to annoying articles about bloggers being ill-socialized people who are categorically not movers and shakers and fan-fiction being made of suck.

So.

I waffled between (option A) rallying in defence and writing letters, and (option B) spending the entire weekend doing Stuff outside of my apartment to prove that I'm not ill-socialized and can change the world if I feel like it, damnit.

Obviously, since that I'm writing this from my bedroom at 5:15 Saturday evening, I figured out that the latter was a dumb idea. However, considering that it's February in Toronto and being out in the minus 30 degrees C weather for two days won't prove much more than I can catch colds with aplomb, I think I'm okay with it.

In fannishness, I'm making my way through Veronica Mars S2. It's a bit less awesome than the first season, but oh the banter! The witty, witty banter! And that bit where Keith told Wallace that if he pinched his nipples it would help him pee! *loves on Keith* *thinks Keith is the best TV dad eva*
--

In non-fannish life stuff, this morning, as I was walking down the big-fuck-off hill to work (although really, I only swear at it in the evenings, when I have to walk up it), I noticed a pile of clothes on the other side of the chain-link fence that separates the sidewalk and road from the local park.

"How did that happen?" I thought idly "Someone lost their... hey... wait a minute!"

One of my mittens was in the pile of clothes. One of my mittens which I lost two years ago, I don't know where, and mourned, because I loved the wool I knit it from. I climbed over the fence, rooted through the wet and slimy leaves, and carried it gingerly the rest of my half-hour walk to work, holding it arms' length and pinching it by the very tip of the thumb, because it was wet and dirty and gross.

It's now in the wash, and despite being kind of delighted by the whole thing, I'm also aware that this is the kind of pack-rat-positive reinforcement I don't need. I didn't throw out the mitt's mate--for two years--because somehow I thought I'd find it again... and I did. Now I'm going to feel twingy about getting rid of all my odd socks.

Things that are awesome:
1. President's Choice Organic Brownies. Only $1.99! With cane sugar! They taste like they're good for you! But they're not!
2. Cashmere hoodies
3. Cashmere hoodies scooped from the lost and found at work
4. Flattering cashmere hoodies scooped from the lost and found at work (okay, it's just one thing! but it has three parts awesome!)
5. Having a bike

Things that are not so:
1. The Billy Graham peeps taking over one of my 7 available channels, and preaching that teaching kids to love Jesus will keep them from being harmed by online sexual predators. WTF, man!
2. Never-ending TIFF coverage, Fashion Television, football, static (x 2) and a documentary about cancer treatment taking up all of the others
3. dial-up
4. Having 26 books in my to-read pile, none of which look fun
5. Six bloody days 'till payday

So after thinking hard about it for a week (having handed in my last paper ever and suddenly having hours and hours of empty time to fill), I've decided that it's time to try. I'm not getting another job. I'm going to keep working at the bookstore part-time, and I'll write full-time, and somehow, the money will stretch.

This, of course, fills me with utter panic, which is why I'm posting here instead of following my own brilliant plan.