Long story short (ish):
I made an appointment last weekend to get a covid test done post-travel, like a responsible adult and shit. That appointment was for yesterday at 1:15. Thus, at 1pm, I was in![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
whispercricket's car driving to Quest Diagnostics to have my nose prodded; while making a left turn not far from the house I was near-headoned by a Mini Cooper.
I did not make that test appointment. I did not get through to them on the phone. After properly investigated by the local cops I limped the poor car home, where Whispercricket gave me a hug and a CBD gummy. She tried calling Quest and discovered as she did that the site would not, in fact, do an "I may have been exposed and I am trying to be a responsible adult" test because they don't feel their ventilation is good enough and I am one part "How do you justify testing anyone if your ventilation sucks?" and about five parts "WHY DOES YOUR WEBSITE LIE".artan tried driving me to the no-appointments drive-through one but they were shut down to new arrivals by 2pm; we did a quick check for test kits just to do something and failed to locate any.
This means that a) I did not get my test done yesterday, I just got b) a sad car, c) a bruised knee, and d) a case of "my entire nervous system is both vibrating and exhausted". (Upon waking up today I have added e) a sore neck.)
My delayed sleep phase means I am at my best if I sleep until ~10-11 am, and my best sleep hours tend to fall between ~7-9am. However, because d), I woke up just before eight and recognized that I was so anxious about the need to drive to the drive-through test site that I was never going to sleep again so I might as well just fucking get up and do it. So I got up, had a drink and light snack, and went to the test site.
The test site is set up in a parking lot, with the car queue around the outside loop of the lot, so basically the access is along a capital D - one enters at the bottom corner of the D, goes around the loop, gets tested along the spine and then can leave. This often overflows into a parking lot basically below the D to add a loop to the queue; usually this is half that circuit, today it was the larger loop, going past the D and then around. This lower lot had a queue going up the street a bit and looping through yet another lot, this one above the D. (Oh, and all these parking lots had a procedure to basically zipper and unzipper the line so more cars would fit in.) When I arrived a couple minutes after site opening the overflow from the upper lot loop was out the street, around the corner onto the main drag, and most of the way back to the previous traffic light; it reached the traffic light fairly soon after.
It took a little more than five hours of queueing to get my damn covid test.
When I was freed from purgatory, I went to buy soda so that I could caffeinate. The parking lot for the grocery store has a divided-by-concrete-slab in-and-out slot governed by an entire traffic light, so one might expect that this would not have drama, but of course - because I'm not already nerve-jangled about CARS COMING AT MY FACE - someone had decided to go three abreast on the out (it is two lanes each way) and was driving out the in. She made very agitated gestures when I beeped at her, and yes, there wasn't much she could do to fix it now but also WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.
The parking lot was very full (including a number of school buses, baffling) but I found a spot, went in to get my damn soda. Feeling rather beat-up from being stuck in the damn van for five hours, I leaned on a shopping cart and got things and probably should've gotten more cheapass instant ramen but I didn't think of that until I got home. Anyway. I schlep out to the van and start dropping stuff in the passenger side door. As I'm working on this the door drifts slightly more open and makes physical contact with the black SUV next to me, which I will name Precious for reasons which are about to become clear.
Precious was probably fairly new - the paint was still rather shiny - but covered in a thorough coating of New England Road Dirt. Precious's owner, who I will refer to as Karen, responded to the indignity of having Precious touched by a twelve-year-old or so plebeian minivan by exploding out, charging around, and shouting, "DID YOU JUST HIT MY CAR" as I was trying to maneuver the shopping cart back out without touching Precious.
"The door bumped it and smudged the dirt," I informed Karen, who promptly crouched down next to the line of dirt the door had arranged tidily and smudged it around with her fingers, clearly trying to find something that she could take out on me under the ... rearranged muck ... while shooting me dirty looks. Eventually she stomped back to go back to... lurking in the SUV? For some reason? I put the cart away, got back in the van, and went the fuck home, where I made instant ramen.
I didn't get to eat it for a bit, though, because right after I finished it the insurance company called me to ask about yesterday's disaster. But at least that is 1) done and 2) was a call that landed after I was home so I didn't have a phone call jangling me on top of five-and-change hours of queueing followed by Outward In Lady and Karen and Precious.
Anyway as you might imagine I am hiding in my room now.
I made an appointment last weekend to get a covid test done post-travel, like a responsible adult and shit. That appointment was for yesterday at 1:15. Thus, at 1pm, I was in
whispercricket's car driving to Quest Diagnostics to have my nose prodded; while making a left turn not far from the house I was near-headoned by a Mini Cooper.I did not make that test appointment. I did not get through to them on the phone. After properly investigated by the local cops I limped the poor car home, where Whispercricket gave me a hug and a CBD gummy. She tried calling Quest and discovered as she did that the site would not, in fact, do an "I may have been exposed and I am trying to be a responsible adult" test because they don't feel their ventilation is good enough and I am one part "How do you justify testing anyone if your ventilation sucks?" and about five parts "WHY DOES YOUR WEBSITE LIE".
artan tried driving me to the no-appointments drive-through one but they were shut down to new arrivals by 2pm; we did a quick check for test kits just to do something and failed to locate any.This means that a) I did not get my test done yesterday, I just got b) a sad car, c) a bruised knee, and d) a case of "my entire nervous system is both vibrating and exhausted". (Upon waking up today I have added e) a sore neck.)
My delayed sleep phase means I am at my best if I sleep until ~10-11 am, and my best sleep hours tend to fall between ~7-9am. However, because d), I woke up just before eight and recognized that I was so anxious about the need to drive to the drive-through test site that I was never going to sleep again so I might as well just fucking get up and do it. So I got up, had a drink and light snack, and went to the test site.
The test site is set up in a parking lot, with the car queue around the outside loop of the lot, so basically the access is along a capital D - one enters at the bottom corner of the D, goes around the loop, gets tested along the spine and then can leave. This often overflows into a parking lot basically below the D to add a loop to the queue; usually this is half that circuit, today it was the larger loop, going past the D and then around. This lower lot had a queue going up the street a bit and looping through yet another lot, this one above the D. (Oh, and all these parking lots had a procedure to basically zipper and unzipper the line so more cars would fit in.) When I arrived a couple minutes after site opening the overflow from the upper lot loop was out the street, around the corner onto the main drag, and most of the way back to the previous traffic light; it reached the traffic light fairly soon after.
It took a little more than five hours of queueing to get my damn covid test.
When I was freed from purgatory, I went to buy soda so that I could caffeinate. The parking lot for the grocery store has a divided-by-concrete-slab in-and-out slot governed by an entire traffic light, so one might expect that this would not have drama, but of course - because I'm not already nerve-jangled about CARS COMING AT MY FACE - someone had decided to go three abreast on the out (it is two lanes each way) and was driving out the in. She made very agitated gestures when I beeped at her, and yes, there wasn't much she could do to fix it now but also WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK.
The parking lot was very full (including a number of school buses, baffling) but I found a spot, went in to get my damn soda. Feeling rather beat-up from being stuck in the damn van for five hours, I leaned on a shopping cart and got things and probably should've gotten more cheapass instant ramen but I didn't think of that until I got home. Anyway. I schlep out to the van and start dropping stuff in the passenger side door. As I'm working on this the door drifts slightly more open and makes physical contact with the black SUV next to me, which I will name Precious for reasons which are about to become clear.
Precious was probably fairly new - the paint was still rather shiny - but covered in a thorough coating of New England Road Dirt. Precious's owner, who I will refer to as Karen, responded to the indignity of having Precious touched by a twelve-year-old or so plebeian minivan by exploding out, charging around, and shouting, "DID YOU JUST HIT MY CAR" as I was trying to maneuver the shopping cart back out without touching Precious.
"The door bumped it and smudged the dirt," I informed Karen, who promptly crouched down next to the line of dirt the door had arranged tidily and smudged it around with her fingers, clearly trying to find something that she could take out on me under the ... rearranged muck ... while shooting me dirty looks. Eventually she stomped back to go back to... lurking in the SUV? For some reason? I put the cart away, got back in the van, and went the fuck home, where I made instant ramen.
I didn't get to eat it for a bit, though, because right after I finished it the insurance company called me to ask about yesterday's disaster. But at least that is 1) done and 2) was a call that landed after I was home so I didn't have a phone call jangling me on top of five-and-change hours of queueing followed by Outward In Lady and Karen and Precious.
Anyway as you might imagine I am hiding in my room now.
From:
no subject
Good grief, people. (Especially Karen and her Precious.)
From:
no subject
Sorry, now I'm stuck with the image of Gollum the soccer mom, SUV full of hobbits...
From:
no subject
Baggins! We drives it, we drives it, we drives it forever, Precious!
From:
no subject
As to the days-of-to-much-day, good grief indeed.
From:
no subject
What do you think about the standard-car-upsale of under-body-treatment? I used to think it was just a scam to get money, but having owned one car with significant frame rust by the time it was done and another which was headed in that direction and had muffler damage from such, I've been reconsidering the concept, especially in this area more prone to slush-salt-concoctions.
Thoughts/opinions?
From:
no subject
All the hugs.
From:
no subject
I shall wish you a pleasant, undisturbed, and efficacious estivation.
(And I am sorry someone has handed you the idiot-magnet; with any luck at all, one of the fair folk will come by during estivation and take it away again to be delivered to one who merits its presence.)
From:
no subject
Staying in your room makes a lot of sense there.
From:
no subject
*hugs*
From:
no subject
From:
no subject
P.