Apartment life . . . :kickingmyself:
I received notice today of a new "tech amenity"—cable and internet for an extra (and obligatory) $65 a month. They wanted to let everyone know that they're extending incentives and to address a frequent question not made clear in their first letter. First letter? What first letter??? This is the first letter, you stupid f*cks!!!* Never heard a thing about this before, and they're trying to tell me it's old news. Not the first time something like this has happened, either.
Anyway, cable and internet for $65 probably isn't a bad price, except that I don't want it. I have internet already—see how I type stuff at home and it gets posted online?—and the cable, well, that's just gotta go. I've been meaning for a long time to cut the cable and most especially to get rid of the DVR that rules my puny life with an iron fist. I'd like to read more and watch TV less, but it's always there with its evil glowing eye commanding me to watch. Tear it out of the cabinet and chuck it down a well, and pretty soon I could be done with TV for good. Who wants to watch stuff when it's actually broadcast? Not this boy. I have other things to do then. Important things. Thing things.**
I've done it before. Kicked the habit for a few years back when. But then I faltered, weakened, felt an urge. They hooked me, got me back on the junk, and then they gave me a time machine***, the evil fiends. Now I can record anything I want, anytime I want****, and play it back whenever I want. The thing is, despite the evil eye, I'm not a TV-all-day kind of person. A little in the morning, a little more in the evening. That's enough. Sadly, there's always one more movie to record*****, one more show I can't let go just yet. The DVR stays around 90-95% full all the time. I keep telling myself that once I get that figure down close to zero, I'll get rid of it, banish it back unto the pit from whence it came. Never happens. The last one flaked on me, refused to play anything after a while. I find myself hoping this one will do the same, just so I can be rid of it. So far, no such luck.
So here I am, with another pain in the tuchus, courtesy of the queens thereof, and less than two weeks to figure it out. I'll have to call them, I guess. I hate that. Takes forever to clean all the stupid out of my ear.
Somebody—anybody—I beg you, please: Get me outta this place!!!
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*Not you reading this, but them. Most definitely them.
**I have no idea what that means, but there it is.
***Okay, so I rent it, but whatever.
****When the stupid thing decides to work, that is. Grrr.
*****Curse you, Turner Classic Movies!!!