Calling out Epson

Epson.com engages in extortion. Period. My Epson WF 2860 was working just fine with after market cartridges until the latest firmware update. Now it won’t recognise them.

 At all.

 I’m furious because now I have perfectly good cartridges that are at least half full and the bloody printer won’t work. If I want to print I’m going to have to go to Office Depot, pay through the nose for Epson’s ridiculously expensive cartridges THAT DON’T LAST AT ALL!! I have too much to do for this crap.

Yes, I realise that is how printer companies actually make their money on these cheap printers, but it’s extortion, plain and simple. I wouldn’t mind so much if the cartridges actually lasted, but they don’t. You print a few things and they’re suddenly only half full.

Capitalist games. Fuck you epson.

Another delaying tact.......erm, I mean blog post

Today's task:  Clearing this

My tip of a kitchen table atm.

so I can finally combine my mother's ashes with those of her German Shepherd and two cats, Xanth and Q.

I'm flying up to stay with my brother next month and we're finally going to take care of setting her ashes to rest. She loved Missouri. Even though she was born in Texas, she always said she was from Missouri because she spent her first nine years there, in the farmhouse built by her ancestors. My grandfather lost it in the Great Depression  and they set out in a 1936 pick up with a top on the back, headed to California, but made it as far as Colorado, I think. But that farm was always 'home' for her. The house is derelict now, if it's even still standing, and Mike and I probably couldn't find it anyway.  But she also loved the Lake of the Ozarks. Her brother, my uncle was born in a cabin which is now at the bottom of the lake. My grandfather was the medical officer for the company that built the Bagnell Dam, which "impounds the Osage River."

So...Mike and I are driving down there and will set an urn that's designed to float for a bit, then "gracefully" sink, and finally disintegrate in the water, returning the ashes to the ecosystem.

Opening the box the ashes are contained in is going to be hard for me; I've literally put it off for two years, but it has to be done. I'm also setting aside a very small bit to take to England and Ireland with me in March. She never got to go....

Where our heroine beats up on herself...again.

Pretty sure I’d started a blog post somewhere (on my iPad, perhaps?), but not fussed to find it at the moment. Something about some project or other that I’ll probably never finish *sighs*

I see You-Tubers having existential meltdowns and wonder how they manage to do what they do. I have all sorts of ideas about videos and even do my work as if I’m narrating a video—don’t you laugh, you all know you do it, too—and have the tripod, the clamps, the ring light….but know fucking good and well I’ll probably never put myself in front of the camera. I’ve put a couple of really lame videos up and one that’s not too bad, and maybe…

But that’s not why I’m here. Today is a rant about something kind of related, and I think I’ve ranted on this before (no, not the moron in the White House; don’t get me started), but it’s reaching a ‘fever pitch’ asAdele sings….

The rant is this: why do I continue to deny myself the things I love to do by not digging in and getting rid of the clutter and getting things organised? That song is more relevant than you might think. I could have had it all…but I’m my own worst enemy. I know I can do anything once I put my mind to it. Moving cross-country and getting my degree despite the odds and nay-sayers proves that.

So why on earth do I look at the mounds of my art supplies, fabric, and my yard that needs work, and just say, I need to get X done so I can do the things I like?  Is it a kind of self-punishment? I know I’ve suffered from extreme lack of self-worth all my life, but extending that to self-denial (as in denying myself the things I want to do) is a tad OTT.

I make lists. I make plans. I make promises to myself. But all I do is sit and watch YT videos of other people keeping them.