I’ve been back in the States just over a week now… I’m happy to report that jet lag didn’t get the best of me this time. I suspect the secret is my rencen wulong tea. Not sure what the caffeine level is in this stuff, but all I know is, I’m up early and I go straight through the day. That’s a good thing, otherwise John would probably feel a tad bitter if I were taking siestas while he was busting ass at work.
So I’ve been pretty productive. The meeting last Thursday with the environmental engineering headhunter went ok. I’m supposed to touch base with him tomorrow to get some interviews set up. After I withdrew my application for the grant writer job at the domestic violence shelter (it was part-time, plus the timing is just too soon), I got an email from the development director this morning. She finished with the second round of interviews and decided none of the other candidates fit the bill, so she’s going to work with a former employee in the interim but she said if, after I got into my job hunt a bit more, I was still interested, I should check back with her to see if the position is still open. Pretty good sign, eh? Made my day. I really got a good vibe from her… it’s too bad the position is only part-time and at nonprofit pay; these days, I’m a self-serving bastard who wants to earn some dough. 🙁 I know, I have a warped view of the world.
On Friday, I got my Office Depot shipment in. John wanted me to have my own workspace in our one bedroom apartment (read: he doesn’t want to share his desk), so I ordered my own desk. You can tell we’re comning up on ten years together, because we’re totally into being on the “same team.” Like we have the same Champion blue mesh shorts (just different sizes, of course). And before, we had the same running shoes. Now, we have the same exact desk– both in the living room. John convinced me to get the hutch also, so we’d only look like half, rather than total, dorks. In usual Office Depot fashion, this desk/hutch combo was a “self-assemble” deal. Jesus Christ. The shipment arrived at 10 am. I finished assembling it all at 9 pm. That thing was a total beotch, man. I am still reeling from having to spend $650 for a desk I have to put together my damn self! The good news is, the desk looks really good. And John was right– I had to get the hutch; otherwise, the look would have been compromised.
So I was feeling very accomplished that night. After all, I had put it together all by myself… well except for getting John to help me lift the hutch onto the desk. We went across the street for dinner at around 10:30. On the way back, I went to fidget with my wedding ring (twist it around my finger), and holy mother of god, the thing was not round. Under the street lamp, I looked down and the thing was totally warped– it was so fucked up, it was the shape of Ohio. I’m talking, not circular, not strongly elliptical, but totally fucked. On top of that, three of the pave diamonds on the band fell out. The damage was so incredible, I was in shock. That shit fucking desk! I was so pissed. Screw the goddamn, good-looking, bullshit desk, you know? I should have taken a picture of the ring, but on arriving home, I immediately started searching ring repair online. I grew increasingly anxious. I mean, here I was still suffering from the sticker shock of living in the Bay area; I was like clipping coupons and turning the thermostat to 82 during the day and hang-drying my clothes (still trying to play my game) and then WHOP! How much was this repair going to cost? Goddamn jewelry. Such a rip-off… the crooks at DeBeers with their blood-sucking, artificially-inflated market. ARGH!!! And yet, this wasn’t just some ring I got at a side stall in China, you know? So despite that crap wedding ring sentimentality, which I despise, I was so angry that I had destroyed something John had worked so hard to give me. Ugh.
So fine, whatever. I started surfing all these like wedding ring forums and shit. And I came across this one lady who was totally hysterical. I should set the record straight though: to my surprise (and to everyone else’s, I’m sure), I didn’t cry. I was just pissed. Pissed that now I would have to get this thing fixed and it was probably going to cost an arm and a leg. So anyway, this lady wrote this post where somehow her ring had gotten damaged, and she apparently “cried and sobbed all day” over it, and she moaned and groaned about how the damage was some kind of insult or blow to their marriage…. you see, that’s when the ring thing has just gone too far. The ring is no longer just a thoughtful, symbolic gift. In her case, the ring IS their marriage. Now, that is messed up… By the way, anyone see Bridezilla? OMG! People spend like $120k on a freakin’ wedding! Seriously, what is wrong with people?!
Back to my Ohio state cookie cutter… After an hour or two of beating myself up about being careless and not removing it before assembling furniture, I got over it. I mean, I could have gotten into some accident where the ring could have cut my finger off (my finger was very bruised— I think I had accidentally set the hutch on my ring/finger but I hadn’t noticed the weight of the furniture because my ring was actually carrying the weight). Or I could’ve gotten hit by a bus and killed (this actually happened to the girlfriend of someone we know). Or seriously, what the hell is going on in Lebanon? People disgust me. And sometimes I disgust myself. So that’s that. I shipped the ring to the manufacturer. They’ll repair it. It’s not the end of the world.