I slept ok but woke up with knots in my stomach again, I think partly out of frustration with Dominick’s Pizza over on East Clinton Street here in Newton, NJ. But I think it also might have something to do with the call I got from Dad yesterday afternoon.
Yes. As predicted, Dad called. He mostly talked about the past with Mom and somewhat about her final moments on July 18th, which I knew were not pleasant. There is no easy way to exit this life when your lungs fail, and hers did just that. “They failed.”
It is not pleasant to watch someone go out that way, let alone listen to it. But from what I do understand, Mom was calling the shots up to the end.
This shit with his computers and constant mania with doing everything as cheaply as possible is insane. My frustration with trying to help the man is further exacerbated by the fact that I don’t feel like he’s actually reading the screen most of the time. How can you have twenty-twenty vision, have a computer on your desk for over thirty-five years and still not grasp basic concepts like how to navigate a Windows directory?
Or is he playing stupid because it’s me helping him? “It’s beginning to feel that way.”
Further aggravating is the fact that he’s been a total disaster with things like passwords from the get-go. Mom and he both seemed to have serious issues with organization with regard to this stuff, which is kind of scary because these are the people that used to be on my case about filing.
The whole situation is just totally screwed up. Now he’s dumping data into an account that he’ll never be able to access from a new device until he figures out how to update the non-existent email address Microsoft is sending security code to. This is absolute crap. I get tired of being jerked off and jerked around. I hate computers and helping people with them because they are lazy, refuse to learn anything to do with the crap they own, and have a habit of making their self-created nightmares everyone else’s problem. “I’m done! I hate everyone who pulls this shit and I’m done!”
Twenty-twenty vision is wasted on society. The people that have it are truly the blind ones. And they dare to play the role of being superior to someone like me? Seriously? “Choke and die.”
Dominic’s can’t seem to cook a roll or stromboli through anymore. I brought it to Sal Lombardo’s attention when I was in last week, but apparently, it’s an issue not worth fixing as I got my coldest stromboli yet yesterday afternoon. When I brought it to the attention of my waitress, Britney, she took it and had it microwaved. It tasted like crap after that.
This business with getting food served cold at the core began around the beginning of October. I believe I’ve been tolerant enough.
Obviously, they don’t care and I certainly will not pay again for something that is lower quality than a TV dinner. While I like Sal and Pete Lumbardo, I’m done with the place for a while. And… You know? “Maybe they and their staff there want it that way.”
I don’t know. At this point, I don’t really care either. If the Food Network loves them so much, “They can have them.”
My patience is really starting to run out with people. “Why bother with society at large?”