Blogged For No One

Oh, what's the point? I've gotten nothing but spam this week (even the mail from friends was the mass kind), about three people read the blog, and no one ever calls me. Now the freaking template won't update, so all three of you reading think it takes me a week to read a 60-page book and whatever else the damn thing said on Thursday. Plus, it's raining. If you've read the ConEd saga, you'll know that means that, as I type, there is water seeping into my apartment through the electrical box. I only pray it stops before the bucket gets full. And there's nothing you can do, you know. You can't refuse to pay your electric bill until they fix the problem, because they'll just turn off your power. You can't get anyone on the phone who's in charge, and trying to go over the customer service rep's head is laughable.

"Can I speak to your superviser?" "Sure! [deepens voice] Yes, this is the superviser, can I help you?"

I know how the game is played. So I just rolled up my rug, put an old towel in front of the closet door and crossed my fingers.

And I was considering moving to Jersey City, but that would add $2 a day to my transportation costs. Forget it.

Something's got to give here, people.