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unnecessary phatic content
Thursday, November 11 2021
My boss Alex and I were both at the office today, and at around noon he invited me to come with him to walk his dog Winnie. Alex wanted to go down to the flatlands southwest of the office complex, but (unusually) there were people and dogs down there today, and Winnie isn't great with strange dogs. So instead we went into the field south of the complex and then over to the field full of solar panels and then out to the street via the Red Hook Fire Department. Along the way, Winnie rolled in what looked like raccoon scatw and Alex and I talked about my mother and brother and then, later in the walk, about a brief (and fairly pointless) meeting we'd had this morning with the new head honcho, who appeared remotely from Canada. [REDACTED]
I didn't have a proper lunch today, getting by instead on granola bars and greasy cocktail peanuts.
After work, I stopped by Lowes to get insulated pads to install behind the switch plates and outlet plates I'd installed at the cabin. Supposedly this will help make the house easier to keep warm, though I don't think it's a code requirement. I'd tried to find such insulators at Home Depot without success, and I couldn't find them in the electrical aisle at Lowes either, though the website said they'd be there. But the website hadn't told me where in the store to look (something it used to do), so I ended up using my phone to chat (via text) with an online employee who (very slowly) looked up the aisle for me. This employee's obsequious conversational style (which was filled with unnecessary phatic content) seemed to reflect a non-American cultural background, though that might've just be a script he or she is made to follow. It turned out that the insulators I was looking for (well, the ones for switch plates; they didn't have any for outlets) was in a totally different part of the store, in the place where they stock things like window sealing strips and floor wipers for doors. Why didn't I just ask some employee there in the store where they were? Partly the problem was that I didn't know what the thing I was looking for is called. And I also have that thing where I don't want to impose on people, at least not face-to-face.
Back at the house Gretchen and I made angelhair pasta just with faux butter, garlic powder, and faux parmesan cheese. It was really good. Gretchen had a bit of an upset stomach and didn't want to give it anything too challenging. As for me, I was feeling a little off as well, though that was probably more of a hangover from pseudoephedrine-boosted drinking yesterday than it was an after-effect of the Moderna booster shot that had gone into my arm.
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