When You Know You Are Right

There is a saying that goes something like this:

"Do you want to be right or do you want to be happy?"

Why can't I be both?

I spent many a year working in an office.  The same office.  I used to wear high heels all the time.  Until I was in my best friend, Laurie's wedding.

It was 1990, or there-abouts.  Laurie chose very pretty dresses for the bridal party to wear and pink pointy toed, high heeled shoes.

I no longer own high heels, so I had to take a picture of all my loafers that are stored in my bin in my closet.  Maybe there are high heels somewhere in there.  If so, I haven't seen them for over four years.

Anyway ~

These same pink shoes happened to match a work dress that I had, so I wore them to work every so often.  These shoes, with their pointed toes and three inch heels were the last straw for my poor big feet.  As a result of wearing high heels, I developed Morton's neuromas in both feet.  The treatment was two separate foot surgeries to remove nerve and the chicken fat-like substance that had attached itself to that nerve.  The other part of the solution was not to wear high heels, which I didn't do for a very long time.  Loafers became my feets new best friend.

Back to being right ~

Once upon a time, my desk at work was moved a couple of feet back.  Right over the area where my feet rested under my desk was an opening that contained wires.  This opening didn't have a cover on it and it was a couple of inches in diameter.  My high heels would get caught in the hole and get tangled in the wires.  I scraped up a lot of heels trying to fight my way out.  Almost broke my neck a couple times, too, getting up from my chair when my feet didn't come with me.

Thank you to my dear brother in-law, Jack who saw fit to send me this picture taken in the late '80's.  This is the second move I had to make.  To the corner.  Read into that what you want to.

I still have that dress and purse.

Kidding.  Although, that is the dress I wore when Randy and I got married.

Anyway ~

After a while, the phone on my desk started to do wonky things.  Intermittently, it would stop working in the middle of a call, keep ringing even though I had picked up the receiver, sometimes I could be heard by the person on the other end, but I couldn't hear them, or vise versa.

Naturally, the phone company came in to try to figure out the problem.  The technician would always head to the storage closet where the all the equipment for the phone was kept.  Naturally, the wonky things never happened while the technician was there.

After a few weeks of unexplainable wonkiness and frustration ("Dorothy, why aren't you answering your phone?") on all parts, I innocently asked if the hole in the floor under my desk could be the problem.  Nope, that is the sewer line.

Great, I had a open line to the sewer under me.  With wires?  That can't be good.  Plus, it may mean no time off for trips to the rest room.

I knew that hole was the problem.  I ended up being right.

Back to present day.

My in-house computer expert has hooked up something called an AirPort Express in our house.  I don't know the technicalities of it, but I do know that it allows me to play music through iTunes on any one of my computers into separate speakers set up in the living room.

I also know that every time the bathroom lights are turned on, the speakers cut in and out.

Now I just have to convince my in-house computer expert that I am right.

Have the BEST day ever!
~ Dorothy