(no subject)

You guys, this shit is BANANAS.

When I left my flat it felt exactly like a greenhouse outside; warm and incredibly humid and green-smelling. It was still sunny out when the train went underground about halfway between home and work.

When I came up from the underground the first thing I saw was that there was NO SUN IN THE SKY. I thought I'd somehow got my times wrong and was getting to work super-early, because it was still night out. Then I saw the billowing rain and thought, oh. Maybe I'm in trouble!

I have never been so glad that downtown Chicago is built on two levels in my life. It makes giving directions very hard; I always say you have to look for a sign when driving in downtown Chicago. Not a street sign; an OMEN, because divine guidance is the only way to navigate the area around the Michigan Avenue Bridge, which has two levels of street both named the same thing, but also has several street signs naming things "Honorary [Insert Famous Person Here] Way" just in case you had delusions about actually knowing what street you're on.

When you know the area and are walking, however, it means that you can run a block in the downpour, getting your suit SOAKING WET, and then duck down the stairs and spend the rest of the walk drying off as you stroll underground to your destination. For a given value of "drying off", anyway.

It is seriously dark out there. Days like this used to spook me when I was new to the job, because I sit in front of a huge window and when it's dark I always think the Old Ones are preparing to rise or something.

(no subject)

I am going to just put this out there and hope it makes someone's life better.

When you call to complain, anywhere, about anything at all, please make sure you're complaining to the right person first. Take thirty seconds to check and see if the person on the other end of the line can help you. "This is my general issue, can you put me in touch with someone who can fix that?"

I am the firewall. I'm happy to sit there and listen to you whine at me for twenty minutes without letting me get a word in to tell you to stop, but in the end I'm still going to transfer you to someone else you're going to have to replay your rant for, because I am basically a sentient switchboard. If you want to whine twice, have fun, but don't get all up on my ass for wanting to put you in touch with someone who can actually do something about your little shit fit when you didn't bother to ask if I could help before having it.

No seriously. I can't fix your problem, but if you would STFU for five seconds I will put you in touch with someone who can.

(no subject)

Ngh. I am home. It was a long damp day, but now there is WHITE COLLAR!

Sam's Three Things About White Collar, 2.04: ( By The Book )

3a. This show makes me unhappy that Chicago has a law against food carts. If I could buy waffles from a truck on the street, I would singlehandedly support their mobile-waffle operation.

Point of discussion: Matt Bomer has legs like Karen Gillian has legs. I put it to you that he is one of the few actors on Earth who could physically play Spike Spiegel convincingly.