First things first, hubby had to deal with getting Oldest's paperwork on the way to him so he can get his passport, and he also had to drop by the vet's office to get meds for SassiePup's traveling flea circus. Of course the girly dog didn't want to take the meds, but we eventually managed to get a pill down her. When her passengers finally began to die off, I gave her a bath - the second bath in a week, bless her heart - so you can imagine she no luvs mommy right now. Boo.
Around noon hubby tried to get into the Guild Wars 2 beta, to which is he supposed to have "guaranteed access", and again he wasn't able to play. He missed the last beta weekend because GameStop had given all the pre-purchase participants the wrong kind of codes.
I tell ya, I don't play GW, but I am none too ecstatic about this crap. He paid $150 for this bullshit collector's edition so he could get a code that has done nothing but give him a reason to tear his hair out. If it were me, I'd take that pre-purchase code back to GameStop and get a complete refund. My opinion of it all: Fuck Guild Wars. If anyone opens a class action lawsuit revolving around their "guaranteed access" beta pre-purchase codes, we will be jumping all over that. So far, it's been nothing for us except headaches and added problems I do not want or need right now.
At least this week is almost over. I had a laundry list of things I'd written out to do for Saturday, but after the past few days of pure anxiety, I tossed that list right into the shredder. I'm tired of jumping through hoops. I'm taking the day off. I've been so stressed out lately over Bahrain, and pets, and life, and drudgery that I'm breaking out in hives and having panic attacks. I refuse to do anything I don't want to do today. Saturday is mine. If something comes up that is even remotely stressful, it is instantly off my list. Someone else can deal with it, or it can wait until Monday. As of right now, I'm officially off the clock for the rest of this week.
Oh! There was one thing good that came out of Friday. Mom called me roughly mid-morning, and she was all excited. She'd gone to one of the dollar stores in town, and found a hall tree. Yeah, a retro coat rack. That's the one thing I had on my Christmas list for 2011. I didn't get one, though, because little did I know, you practically have to order them online to get them nowadays, and I'm the only person in the family who shops on this new-fangled thing called the internets.
Anyway, so mom was gushing about this hall tree, and I'm asking her about fifty questions a minute trying to find out what kind it is. I still don't know. But if it's works, even if it's ugly, I'll be thrilled. Currently, I have this storage box that we drape our coats and jackets on it. Never mind the hats all over the house. Pfft. The guys just toss their ball caps onto whatever surface is nearby, usually the table, the bar. I have to move them into one corner or they'd take over the house. Anyway, the storage box is silver and hideous, it's in our dining room, and I want to get rid of it forever. That's why I want, no, that's why I need, this hall tree.
Well, mom bought that as yet unseen hall tree for me today, and that was my high point. My big moment of joy. I'm now the proud owner of a tall stick with prongs all over it to hang your coats and hats on. So be it. I'm happy about it and that's all that matters. I told mom I'd bring her the money for it when I pick it up this weekend. I'll probably go over there after I have a cup of tea and complete my morning GW voodoo ritual.
That's all for now. It's one thirty in the morning, and I'm getting sleepy. If you read this far, give yourself a gold star for listening to my whine fest. Here's hoping Saturday will be better, and I won't need to have a whine fest for a good, long while.