Steph, they may not have given you settings to prevent overprinting.
I wondered about that, but I still circle back to -- if the settings weren't set to prevent overprinting, why has it never happened before?
Here's a good source on overprinting problems (and really a lot of things GD related) [link]
I was googling like crazy last night until Tim came home and made me stop -- I saw that link, but didn't read too far into it because I was already completely brain-fried.
I'm going to read it now that I've had a good night's sleep and am calmer today. Thanks!
Yay, Trudy! I'm glad the pain is beginning to subside.
It's totally probable that a setting somewhere was changed or reset. But at least the stuff at that link will let you know what you're looking for.
X-posting from Natter, but with people suffering loss etc. a friend sent me this link yesterday (you may not want to read it at work as it will likely make you cry). It's about loss and reaching out and getting "unstuck" [link]
(you may not want to read it at work as it will likely make you cry)
Heh. I read the link in Natter before I came to Bitches, and I did indeed read it and I am still indeed crying. Not in a bad way. Not in a good way. Just...you know.
I thought people here would like it, because I think here is where a lot of us really feel we can reach out and hang on tight. Loves me some buffistas, I do, and don't know what I would do or who I would be without them.
{{{Jilli}}}}
I'm caught up and was able to bring furry Mal home for observation. The hospital wanted to keep him until he passed whatever the obstruction is, but they were done with iv fluids and his kidney levels are back to normal, so it's just a waiting game. He's had some food, so now either he passes it on his own (yay! go poo!) or he starts hoarking again and gets cut open (boo! kitty surgery bad). He looks pathetic with his shaved foreleg but far less pathetic than when i had to leave him last night with an iv taped to his leg and soft collar that made him look like a pathetic clown or demented flower. Nico is following him around, sniffing at his butt where the fur is still matted with whatever got glopped onto him at the vet hospital (i think some antiseptic for a urine draw plus lube for temperature taking.) I've tried cleaning his butt with a warm wet paper towel but he's having none of it. Too much manhandling all night. He's really enjoying sitting in front of the heating vent on a towel i put there for his lounging comfort. Much appreciation for the ~ma, please keep it coming...i really want him to stay home, safe, un-cut-open.
{{{{ Jilli }}}} Not sure what else to say on that, but you have all of our love and support in here.
Much ~ma for furry Mal, erin!
Erin, your experience with Xanax sounds much like mine with Valium! Happiness in a bottle and no hangover. I dread running out and having some overzealous doctor refuse to refill the prescription.
Steph, I feel ya on the printer issues. Once our printer overprinted our society logo in black; big black box on the front cover. Nice. They had no explanation for it, either. It shouldn't happen; if you didn't do anything different then it sure'z'hell ain't your fault.
It should be a separate post from the previous.
I had the weirdest dream last night. I was in a conference room. Business attire (very unusual, as I work theater). And this punk ass know it all was going on and on and on about his great droid phone, and how this is as good as the iphone, and this feature is as good as an iphone, and... you get the idea. And it was bugging the hell out of me. So, in my smart ass way, I pointed out, yeah, but the biggest problem is, it ISN"T an iPhone, and that if you wanted one that could do all the things the iPhone could do, why didn't you just get an iPhone, instead of a cheap imitation? Then the kid blew his stack. Threw his phone across the room, the bevel shattered, and plastic bits went flying. Then I went into "dude, you gotta cool your engines, turbo" mode. Trying to talk him down from blow up. And he just sat in his chair, steaming, not saying a word. And I realized no matter what I said, he was not having any of it. So I said, "I think at this time, you should mutter something about your stomach not agreeing with what you had for lunch, go to the bathroom, get some cold water on your face, and take a nice slow walk around the block. For what it's worth, I really did not mean to push your buttons, I just wanted you to shut up about your stupid phone. I'm sorry about making you blow your stack". Then he got up, and left the room.
That is when I woke up, in my living room. 3am. Got up, and tried to go to bed. But insomnia fairie wouldn't let me sleep. I was feeling guilty about a fucking dream!! How crazy is that!?!
Thankfully, I'm heading into work late today, since I am working tomorrow, so I hit the snooze bar a million times. It's pledge drive on local NPR, so that helped with the snooze bar hitting.
Clearly, another example of my brain thinking too much.
