There are a lot of "this person isn't answering the phone" messages. Most of them I don't mind, but there's this one, a male voice, that starts out quite pleasant but then, with "--to take your call" suddenly gets all snotty and smug. I can't stand it. I call it Phil.
I had a guy tell me, "I think it's un-American that you can call and ask me how often I have sex and what my blood pressure is." (I do not, for the record, ask people how often they have sex. I don't want to know how often they have sex. I do ask about their blood pressure, because that's my job.) He went on in this vein a little, and I mentioned that I could always stop calling him, he could opt out of the program, and he told me he couldn't afford it and repeated that it was un-American. I said, "At least it's capitalist," and determinedly went on to my next question.
Speaking of blood pressure, I had mine checked recently and it was quite low, so the job evidently isn't getting to me yet. Not that I think it necessarily will; some people I talk to are reluctant and others are chatty but most are pleasant and reasonably cooperative, and I've already experienced some disgruntled ones and don't expect it to get much worse. Plus I like this long break between leaving work Monday at 4:30 and returning Tuesday at 3:30. Then I have to work until midnight, of course, but them's the breaks. It's not a bad job. And I finally get paid this week, so hooray.
The house has been inspected and we're making our demands today; they're pretty reasonable and the sellers are closing on their new house this week so we'll almost certainly get them. I'm going to buy cleaning supplies and get paint swatches this week, and start packing things in boxes. Moving does not thrill me this time around; but having moved, and living in a place where I will finally (barring disaster) be staying more than eighteen months, for the first time since 1999, does.