This week has not been tip-top, worlds o' fun here at Stately Matty Boy Manor.
On Saturday, just as I was leaving the house, there was a power outage. I understand that it extended a few blocks to the east and south, but one block away to the west, traffic lights were working and it was business as usual.
On Tuesday, just as I was to start some tele-commuting work with a company down in San Diego, I can't get a dial tone and people trying to call in get a disconnected message. The system magically corrects itself later that day, but a call to a friend in New York is interrupted by static on Wednesday, and when I pick up the line to call back, again no dial tone, though a different bad sound from the bad sound on Tuesday.
Tonight, as I get set to watch one hour of the three hours of TV I watch regularly in a week, I turn on the TV to discover the cable isn't working.
I am reminded of the few months I lived in El Salvador teaching math about thirty years ago. The only significant difference I can detect is that here in Oakland, I never have to shoo a three foot long iguana out of my living room and back onto the enclosed patio where he belongs.