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Day 4: Sick of it all
I've just about survived my brother's stay, albeit not without getting sick. My money is on the dim sum at Three Happiness on Sunday (a shadow of its former self, but Phoenix was closed for renovations), but the trouble started yesterday morning and really kicked in just as I was enjoying a Black Forest mocha at Meinl. So today was a bust. On the plus side, that meant I got out of the dreaded trip to Ed Debevic's, but I also ended up having to pull the plug on a visiting Pilsen. We might still be able to make it this weekend, but without Kramer along we won't have critical mass for carnitas.
In conversation with my mother last night during the seventh inning stretch, she told me, "I thought you'd be hitting the wall by now." That came today. I haven't slept well since Friday night, with this being the worst of all. I tried to catch a nap at noontime, but the only way I could think of getting our guest out of our collective hair without giving him another crack at infecting one of our computers (![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
monshu found a trojan on one and can't log into his e-mail on the other; we're now vacillating between a Bring Your Own Computer policy and keeping one machine we don't give a crap about for the use of guests) was to let him watch a horror movie I'd NetFlixed and there was no way I was going to be able to sleep through that. "I just want people out of my house!" I whined to the GWO, who pointed out, "The Promised Land is within sight."
Given all that, I'm pleased we were able to finish the day on such a positive note: mini-Thanksgiving leftovers for dinner followed by fun videos on YouTube. (Brett Domino, you have another devoted fan!) Either his obliviousness is simply way worse than I ever realised or it's getting worse, whether due to age or illness of some combination of the two, I don't know. I asked yesterday why he wasn't using the shower in the downstairs bathroom. "I couldn't find it." He got a programme-modification warning and couldn't tell me which programme was named in it. "Could you just come over here and read it?" He couldn't even tell whether or not a particular browser was running even though his machine has the same OS. I'm a decent tutor when I know what my pupil's baseline is, but when I keep having to retreat to ever more basic principles, it just wears my patience to a thread.
But I was talking about good things, wasn't I? The best thing about the experience was how everyone came through for me. A big reason why I didn't hit the wall before today was that Nuphy andbunj came along Sunday and made the afternoon super enjoyable. As mentioned before, bunj also took Kramer for a couple hours on Saturday, thereby giving me more rope to hang myself by. But the real hero of the weekend is monshu, of course, who cooked, shopped, did laundry, washed dishes, fixed computers--whatever it took to keep the household running and my fragile sanity intact. He has a sweet smile, but it's rarely looked as sweet to me as it did in the wee hours of this morning when I came up for some Pepto and sympathy and got healing doses of both.
In conversation with my mother last night during the seventh inning stretch, she told me, "I thought you'd be hitting the wall by now." That came today. I haven't slept well since Friday night, with this being the worst of all. I tried to catch a nap at noontime, but the only way I could think of getting our guest out of our collective hair without giving him another crack at infecting one of our computers (
monshu found a trojan on one and can't log into his e-mail on the other; we're now vacillating between a Bring Your Own Computer policy and keeping one machine we don't give a crap about for the use of guests) was to let him watch a horror movie I'd NetFlixed and there was no way I was going to be able to sleep through that. "I just want people out of my house!" I whined to the GWO, who pointed out, "The Promised Land is within sight."Given all that, I'm pleased we were able to finish the day on such a positive note: mini-Thanksgiving leftovers for dinner followed by fun videos on YouTube. (Brett Domino, you have another devoted fan!) Either his obliviousness is simply way worse than I ever realised or it's getting worse, whether due to age or illness of some combination of the two, I don't know. I asked yesterday why he wasn't using the shower in the downstairs bathroom. "I couldn't find it." He got a programme-modification warning and couldn't tell me which programme was named in it. "Could you just come over here and read it?" He couldn't even tell whether or not a particular browser was running even though his machine has the same OS. I'm a decent tutor when I know what my pupil's baseline is, but when I keep having to retreat to ever more basic principles, it just wears my patience to a thread.
But I was talking about good things, wasn't I? The best thing about the experience was how everyone came through for me. A big reason why I didn't hit the wall before today was that Nuphy and
bunj came along Sunday and made the afternoon super enjoyable. As mentioned before, bunj also took Kramer for a couple hours on Saturday, thereby giving me more rope to hang myself by. But the real hero of the weekend is monshu, of course, who cooked, shopped, did laundry, washed dishes, fixed computers--whatever it took to keep the household running and my fragile sanity intact. He has a sweet smile, but it's rarely looked as sweet to me as it did in the wee hours of this morning when I came up for some Pepto and sympathy and got healing doses of both.
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A middle ground may be to create a guest account without admin privileges, which should limit the possible damage. But it's true that the more personal and essential these devices become, the more sharing a computer or phone starts to feel like sharing a toothbrush.
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»shiver« My sister took me there when I was…um…I wanna say I was 19ish, maybe 20. Being a cloistered kid from the suburbs, I thought the rudeness schtick was clever and fun for about 15 minutes, then it got tiresome. I cannot imagine enduring it with good humour as a grownup.
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My father was in town as well babysitting his stepgrands, so I suggested to my brother he give him a call and see if he'd be willing to take him there "since it seems like something that might be fun for six-year-olds". It was meant as a simple statement of fact rather than a burn.