Yesterday Was Just Awful

It started out smoothly enough...

In the morning, I went down to the West Village to have coffee with a composer friend who I haven't seen in ages. We chatted about projects and general, artistic survivalism. Some people are really skilled at conversation. It was good to catch up.

It was also particularly surreal because we went to this coffee shop that is literally two doors over from where I used to live, over a decade ago. On West 10th Street. So peculiar going back there. Sense memory kicks in. Walking the old streets to my old stoop, my body feels like it's almost home. I remember all the nights walking home from all my old day jobs. I remember waking up early to jog along the West Side Highway. I remember my loft bed and the little television I had propped up in there. All those years ago, this completely different life.

After coffee, I headed back to the midtown apartment. Our apartment door's been fucked up for a little while now. One of the screws on the strikeplate has been missing, and that strikeplate's just gotten more warped as people slam that door. There's no super in the building and none of my roommates ever lift a finger to fix anything. I nearly got locked out of the apartment the other day because of that jammed strikeplate. It's been on my list of things to repair.

Headed to my room to catch up on some DVR'ed programs before hitting the gym. (TV's not repaired yet, but I've been implementing a work-around to keep it alive.) Started doing some work on the computer with the TV on in the background and I started hearing this BEEPING sound... not unlike when a mine is about to explode...

Then my cable box dies.

Completely dies. No lights. Tried plugging it into different outlets: utter cessation of life.

Fuck.

All right. Everything's breaking down but I don't like procrastinating when it comes to fixing things like this. Grab the cable box, head down to 23rd and Madison to swap it for a new one at the Time Warner depot.

Take the train down. Swap the box. Take a cab back up because I'm that impatient.

Set up the new box. A shiny black Samsung model. Connect everything and fire it up. It begins its boot cycle... completes its boot cycle... and there's no picture.

I try switching HDMI cables. In case it's some grander broken mechanism in my television, I try hooking it up to my roommate's (newer) TV in the living room. This cable box looks cool but it's NOT working.

So. After taking a stiff drink, I grab the replacement cable box and head straight back down to 23rd and Madison. I take cab back down there because fuck it. The location of the Time Warner box drop-off is a pain-in-the-ass, but at least you can get in and out of there in a hurry. I explain the situation to the woman at the counter and she offers me a different model cable box (Scientific Atlanta).

I walk home with the second replacement box. Because there aren't any cabs handy. Because I figure there's no way that I'm going to get handed TWO defective cable boxes in a day. On the walk home, I go to a hardware store and pick up some screws to fix the strikeplate on our apartment door. I don't know the exact size of the screw I need, so I get several different sizes, just so I don't have to deal with a lot of back-and-forth.

Back home... I fix the door. Hook up the 2nd replacement cable box... and it seems to work just fine.

Order has been restored to the world. And now the better part of the day has been pissed away.

Starting writing a new stage play, though. Rather, an old play that I keep meaning to work on. Just feels refreshing to write something that isn't a screenplay.