am. going. to. scream.
Today, in addition to 1) the nurse's aide at UHS being incompetent and illiterate and 2) the woman who was supposed to give me keys to various Arts Admin offices deciding not to show up for work today and 3) having a picture frame break and spew glass directly onto our bed and 4) feeling like a bumbling freshman all over again, constantly getting lost and wandering aimlessly around the UC campus looking for unmarked offices, my fucking ipod fritzed out.
Granted, the iPod is old (3rd gen) and has been with me through three computers over the course of two years. However, it is never good to hear the tech support guy at the Apple store say "wow, that's bizzare. I've never heard of that happening!" when you come in, ready to tear your hair out in frustration.
Explanation: I used to be on Central time. We moved to Cincy, and I changed the clock setting on my macbook (and the time zones for all events on iCal) and the iPod to Eastern. Which is fine.
Then, right after I put my entire class schedule and assorted appointments into the computer, I sync it with my iPod as normal. For unexplained reasons, the iPod freaks out and decides that it needs to change all the times of all my appointments by somewhat random intervals. Some things are pushed back one hour, some things are spread out over very many more hours than necessary, some are outright deleted. So, commence with the frantic clicking and changing of preferences and eventually driving 20 minutes to the Apple store to have someone say that my iPod's hard drive is ready to die, and that no one has ever seen such an odd problem, and hey, if you come back tomorrow, someone else can look at this thing and probably not fix it, too!
So, tomorrow, either I'm going to find the one person in the greater Cincinnati metro area with the ability to fix this problem, or I'm plonking down $249 that I do not have for a new shiny iPod, and another $19 for a bottle of prosecco. Which I will drink while spending my afternoon looking at slideshows of lolcats, the only thing that could bring my brain back from the brink of implosion.
(the implosion of my bank account, however, is another story.)