Meanwhile my Corvette is once again listed in the Montecito market and is receiving some attention-, at least "lookee-loo" attention. One guy came and drove the car, loved it and then decided he was going to pursue a red one that was similarly equipped. Thanks for taking up my time, gasoline, and efforts. I'm glad (sic) that I could be of service - NOT. When I advertise, I asked for serious buyers only to call. I guess he was serious, but not about my car...
I go "great guns" at processing position-offerings in the morning. By afternoon, I am depressed and wondering if that was the last technical job that I was going to ever have. Funny, because in my estimation, the last work that I did was some of my best. The result worked, was showy and very fast. I was happy with the results and they surpassed what was expected. A year later, it is still being used on a 24-7 basis, and working as desired. I truly don't want it to be the end of my "work" days, but at the very least, it was a success.
Meanwhile, it appears that the world is falling apart, between Ukraine vs. Russia, ISIS vs Iraq, ISIS vs Syria, ISIS vs USA, overzealous police in the US, weird weather all over, Ebola, and all the other crises the world around. There is that things in general always seem to get worse just when we think they are getting better- even if it is just for a short time...
Father's Lesson
A boy asks his father to explain the differences among irritation, aggravation, and frustration.
His father picks up the phone and dials a number at random. When the phone is answered, he asks, "Can I speak to Alf, please?"
"No! There's no one called Alf here," says the person who answered the phone.
His father hangs up. "That's irritation," he says.
He picks up the phone again, dials the same number, and asks for Alf a second time. "No-there's no one here called Alf. Go away. If you call again I shall telephone the police," the person says.
His father hangs up and says, "That's aggravation."
"Then what's frustration?" asks his son. The father picks up the phone and dials the same number a third time.
"Hello, this is Alf. Have I received any phone calls?" he asks casually.
Whoops...
Hospital regulations require a wheelchair for patients being discharged. However, while working as a student nurse, I found one elderly gentleman--already dressed and sitting on the bed with a suitcase at his feet--who insisted he didn't need my help to leave the hospital.
After a chat about rules being rules, he reluctantly let me wheel him to the elevator. On the way down I asked him if his wife was meeting him.
"I don't know," he said. "She's still upstairs in the bath room changing out of her hospital gown."
