Yesterday was not a great one. The entire day I just felt like I was covered in a blanket of beige where I didn't feel like doing anything. Work was slow, I'm caught up on proposals and paperwork and AOL kept me from being able to do anything e-mail related. I did manage to send a message from my lady-phone that, thanks to predictive texting, came through as "Will I lord the 24 bit pre loaded content? Also he I can't import owes the network them i'll basically lord everything." (Translation: Will I LOSE the 24 bit pre-loaded content? Also IF I can't import OVER the network THEN I'll basically LOSE everything.) I had to follow-up from home to let the recipient know I hadn't suffered a stroke or something.

So, some highlights from yesterday. A couple walks in and wants to see our new Runco Q video projector. I don't like to "profile" people based on the vehicle that they pull up in or what they are wearing, but I can TOTALLY tell these people are NOT going to be buying a Q ($15,000 retail by the way). But, hey, I'm proud of our new theater room, it's dead as a mother so why not? So I give them the full run down on the Q (color gamut, LED lifespan, no color wheel, diddly-this-and-that) and the guy starts wanting to talk about his 3500 lumen Epson business projector and about how outrageous the $200 bulb replacement is. That's when I knew that he would be leaving without a Q. Which he did. After like another 20 soul-stealing minutes of him wanting to chat about projectors he saw in a bowling alley.

Then, I KNOW better than to answer the phone at CTA after 6. Nothing good ever comes of it. But, it rings at 6:04 and like Pavlov's dog, I just reach over and answer it. Angry lady. Not getting cable TV. What is she supposed to do? So we talk for like 20 minutes, and I'm trying to explain that cable boxes fail frequently (I'm on my 4th) and that the only solution is to replace it....which ONLY the cable company can do. "Can't you just bring me one?" No. I can't. "I work. What am I supposed to do?" I offer to meet her the next morning at Time Warner so she can swap the box and I'll go and put it in. She's totally unwilling. Then she starts complaining that we should have called her and told her it was broken. Which we DID. The call showed up as "unknown" (Here's a tip....if you don't want people to have your cell phone number, dial *67 before you call!)

"I don't answer unknown calls."

"Did my installer leave a message."

"Yes. But I just got it. I don't check messages from unknown callers."

"OK, so he DID call and he DID leave a message."

"It said unknown."

Do you ever have to pull the phone away from your ear and just swear silently to yourself, taking that extra moment so you just don't declare a personal Jihad on someone?

She finishes the call with "I'll be home tomorrow night at 6:30 and if my TV doesn't work, I'll expect somewhere here to fix it."

Amount of money we've made from this woman to date? $120.

The evening hit a high point with a large dual blue cheese olive martini and Survivor and The Office. Cirie is gone! GONE!!! I disliked her from the start; she doesn't seem to do ANYTHING but run her mouth and stir the embers. Do. Not. Like. Her! And James...you who I've previously described as "chiseled from obsidian" and "an ebony Greek Adonis" (In totally hetero terms, by the way). You looked super human covered in that slip-and-slide oil, with a performance that made up for all that running-your-mouth we've had to put up with so far. (Also, some nice camera time for my favorite I-don't-care-how-thin-she-looks-I-still-think-she's-the-cutest, Courtney. Blonde Winona Ryder. With attitude.)

The night closed in classic style with a nightmare. (To the disappointment of many, it did not end with any of the screaming or shouting I've come to be known for.) In the dream, Dana, Lauryn and I were on a plane and I look out the window and watch as the wing clips into another plane. The nose pitches down and red lights start going off with shouting of "Get in your seats and buckle up!" I am clutching Lauryn in my lap, kissing Dana and saying "I love you so much" over and over as the grey, choppy ocean comes rushing up through the window at 500 MPH. Good times.....