I bounced out of bed, ready for Him, Her, or Them. Between 8 am and 12, they promised. At 9 am someone rang to say the technician had telephoned (egad, he had a phone that works!) and therefore no one would come today. Aarrgghh!So I went to the Italian class after all. Just as well, prudently, that I had done the homework. Il compito.
The most recent telephone bill arrived yesterday, with a stratospheric amount due. I think I am going to wend my weary and troubled way to a Telstra shop, to harass someone personally, and to be ready to burst into floods of wild sobs (not that this would have any effect on any non-self-respecting telco).
Time to email my niece and see what more she can do.
However, the nice local mender of devices has fixed my amplifier, fixed up the wiring and connections, put it all back together, rationalised the spaghetti junction of cables, all very efficiently and kindly. Now it behoves me to finish retuning the digital radio my children gave me, whick lost all its presets during the last fabled outage. I must beware: there is a scheduled outage soon to enable my very own telco to put in some new cables, or some such. The level of my foreboding has by no means plummetted.
And I must have another look at my settings to try to replace the keyboard settings, inexplicably now in Spanish, back to English. Although I can understand Buscar and Ir.
Just as well.