I’d envisioned writing a dramatic post about the highs and lows of converting the guest room closet into an office nook, with real time updates and all the ensuing chaos. However, there was none. Fletch worked particularly hard and the end result is exactly what I hoped to see. The entire project came in under $200, as I already had everything, save for the wallpaper and shelves.
Sure, if I counted Fletch’s time, it would have run about $9,000 because he was so precise with the wallpaper seams, spending multiple days getting it all perfect, but he was happy to let me pay him back with a trip to the wine store.
Here is the big reveal…
I will probably upgrade the desk soon, even though I think it’s cute. I bought the cheapest possible computer desk to squeeze into primary bedroom about six months ago, but the cats immediately claimed it due to its location overlooking the duck pond. I was glad to have it to move into here, but I’ve discovered that when I lean forward on it, it bends. This is likely because it is made of Chinese newspapers. (They aren’t known for their durability.) I don’t see this thing lasting too long. I also want to get new under-cabinet lighting, as the ones I bought on Amazon give off the equivalent of a single candle, so I need to send them back.
Also, I can’t show the Pinterest-perfect portion without also sharing the aftermath.
This is where I had to put the closet stuff to make way for the nook. (I have since sorted it, but it took all damn week.)
Until today, I’ve done my desk-based work at the kitchen table, in Fletch’s office when not occupied, or at my desk in the Arctic depths of the frigid basement. The kitchen table has been my default area. When I’m there, I’m right in the center of the traffic flow, because like the Barbie movie set, this house is built on a 3/4 scale. I also share the oversized table in a too-small room with two weeks’ worth of mail, a stack of New Yorkers that I am never going to read despite my promises, my handbag, and a half dozen of my latest Amazon returns, waiting for me to take them back to the UPS store.
Amazon returns are a separate rant. Lately, it seems like every time I order a specific item because it’s promised to be here by a specific day, then they don’t deliver it on time for no apparent reason. If my order can’t be here until Tuesday, tell me that up front. It’s okay. I can be patient. I just ask that they don’t make me hang around the front door all day Sunday, waiting for the thing I need to never get here because that part is crazy-making. Then, instead of Amazon acknowledging their delay and picking the thing back up because I no longer need it (having carted my happy ass to a store on Monday), now I am tasked with driving the whatever to an authorized store because they will only pick up if I pay them $7.
No. You don’t get $7 for being bad at your job.
Yet I digress.
My desk is up and ready and today was the first chance I had to sit at it and do anything other than admire the wallpaper. I had to spend yesterday in the refrigerator basement working on my Poshmark store. Despite having a million concurrent ghostwriting projects and working (I wish I were kidding) 14-hour days, no one pays me in a timely manner. What’s ironic is that I got into ghostwriting because I didn’t want to do all the bullshit that’s been heaped upon authors in the past ten years, from marketing to networking to promoting. While I’ve divested myself of those tasks, now I get to be a collection agent and I’m as good at that as I am at marketing. Argh.
As a little treat today, I decided I would stop working while I ate lunch. I was excited to use the kitchen table for its original purpose again! Also, I made a fantastic lasagna soup yesterday and that was on the menu. I can’t give you the recipe because I tend to freestyle ingredients, such as beef stock for chicken stock, and seasonings to taste. And if it calls for two garlic cloves, I will use a minimum of ten, as I am not afraid of flavor. There’s a bit where I was supposed to make the creamy garnish out of shredded mozzarella and ricotta, but I realized too late I was out. So, I mixed the shredded cheese with parsley, marscarpone, fresh burrata, and, holy shit, I want to be buried in a Tupperware container full of this now.
The plan was to watch something fun while I ate. I’d seen a post where someone mentioned how they didn’t understand why the movie Cruella was so poorly received, as they’d enjoyed it. Then I saw a clip and the movie seemed like a nice breather from the 24/7 Israel coverage I’ve been consuming. I dived deep yesterday and saw some unseeable shit. I will spare you the details, but let me say this in the simplest terms—I stand against terrorism.
I decided I’d start the movie as I finished my tasks in the office nook. I discovered I could watch it on Disney+, ideal as I’d added that to my Hulu package a while ago. I tried pulling it up and I got an error message, saying I didn’t have that subscription. So I checked my account and verified that I did have that subscription. I opened a chat with a Hulu rep., assuming this was an easy fix.
HA, HA, HA, NEVER ASSUME.
I had to fill out a box to access the chat and I populated the box, stating my issue. Then a rep came onto the chat… where I had to tell him again what my problem was. Hmm, I thought. Designing these chat cues is specifically what Fletch does for a living and I know it shouldn’t be like this, so I am already concerned that this will be a hassle.
After explaining my problem (again), the rep asked me how I normally paid for the service as verification. I was logged into the app and behind a secure wall, so this seems like info he should have had. But sure, for fraud’s sake, and because I didn’t want to see any more carnage while I ate my soup, I complied.
Here’s how our conversation went:
JOHN LORENZ D: How do you pay for your account?
Certainly not ghostwriting.
Me: Paypal maybe? I’ m sorry, I don’t actually know.
JOHN LORENZ D: No.
Okay. Wasn’t aware this was a quiz, or that no was a potential answer.
Me: Oh, then is it an ACH from my bank?
JOHN LORENZ D: No.
Me: Credit card, I guess? I’m sorry, is this important? My account is in good standing.
JOHN LORENZ D: Fine. What are the last four digits of the card you use?
Me: I don’t know, they’re not in front of me and I have a handful of them. Probably it’s a Capital One card because I get triple points?
JOHN LORENZ D: What kind of card is that?
Blue? I don’t know?
Me: I’m sorry, I don’t understand the question.
JOHN LORENZ D: What kind is it?
Well, that clarifies it.
Me: Plastic, I guess? With a chip? Sorry, my purse is downstairs, it’s not in front of me. I’m in my office.
(I have an office!)
Me: Listen, I’m not trying to add anything or change the account, I just want to watch Cruella on the Disney+ subscription that I pay for. Can you please help me with that?
JOHN LORENZ D: Yes.
Me: Great!
JOHN LORENZ D: But I need to know what kind card it is.
Me: Blue?
I swear, I am not trying to be an asshole. I truly don’t understand the question.
JOHN LORENZ D: Is it American Express, Discover, MasterCard or Visa?
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