I spent most of the morning and an hour and fifteen of the afternoon in trying to get my phone fixed AND in disputing a credit report.
Repeated what's getting to be the usual hassle with AT & T: long waits, disconnections, and bland indifference by the reps. In addition, I endured at least three calls each to the company (Wayfair), the credit company, a bank, and who knows, Santa Claus, I discovered that a place where I have a credit card (Catherine's) provided my SS number incorrectly by one digit. Since my credit score is 805 (same as my area code), you'd think they'd be happy to get my business, but no, I guess not. I don't want to go into detail, I'll just say it was an ordeal.
Took a break from all that to attend Dr. Woodling's lecture at The Townehouse. I realize why I keep calling him "Dr. Wordling"--because he's so wordy and he's getting more and more boring. His topic was "memory" and as he always does, he roamed all over the map. If there's any one nugget of information in his talks that I haven't heard before--or haven't known since I was ten--I haven't found it yet. (Okay, he revealed the info about putting B12 under the tongue, but that was it.)
Doris had saved me a seat and I sat with her and Sherry. On my other side was Jean Shelton, the one old enough to be my mother, and I enjoyed talking to her. I accompanied her to her daughter's car and recognized her as somebody who had been on our last casino trip.
It was raining--again--as I drove home. Funny, it's almost never the hard, driving rain you get in Jersey. This, as usual, was kind of a slow drip.
Called Nancy after dinner and we had a long talk. Her car's battery died on Thursday and her son has been sick, so wasn't able to get a new one. That means we won't be going to the Hill Street Cafe today and probably not tomorrow, either. I invited her to go to the casino with Carole and me on Tuesday, and she accepted with pleasure.
This would have been my husband's eighty-seventh birthday.