Nineteenth Nervous Breakdown

I had scheduled the cable company to come and "bundle" my services...sounded really convenient to get one bill for the television, phone, and Internet. Some dude named Tony rang the doorbell last week, selling this golden opportunity, and Mother who would have probably welcomed in Charles Manson, had him in the living room before I had a chance to react.
The idea is that we get a gazillion channels, movies on demand, premium channels, DVR, faster Internet, blah, blah for only one reasonable monthly rate, no charge for installation.
The installers came today. Right now I have only 21 of the gazillion channels, my phone won't change over from the old company until they can "capture the number" on the fourteenth, and I'm still hooked up to the phone Internet access because my cable is old and needs to be replaced.
The kids who came to do this job literally went into every room in the house except the kitchen, dining room and Mother's bathroom. There was one path of graddoo they tracked in from outside and another they brought down out of the attic.
The whole process took about two hours and during that time they moved every piece of furniture in the house. I am feeling better now, but only because I took half of one of the little anti-anxiety pills that Mother keeps in her linen closet.
The account with SuperCable is still in my Daddy's name and he's been dead for twelve years, so I can't put in the last four numbers of the Social Security number of the account holder to speak to anyone at the cable company. Tony the Italian "district manager" is evidently still celebrating America's independence and can't be reached. The only good news here is that they will not keep me from seeing what really broke up Jake and Vienna this evening on ABC.
I probably would have been in better shape to handle this crisis of technology, if we hadn't had son and significant other for dinner on the Fourth. Having not visited with them since Easter, I thought it timely that we reconnect, even though it can be as tricky as negotiating a minefield to spend time with the pair of them.
I was saddened by some other news before their arrival, so color me emotionally fragile hostess material.
They arrived on time, and my son immediately launched into his dead-on imitation of my former father-in-law. Not my favorite person, his chillingly narcissistic self-absorption is not what I wanted for my boy. Both son and significant are non-stop talkers...they don't converse, they lecture. There's no pause for reply, there's no tolerance for the flawed opinions of others, and please don't get them started on politics.
Dinner was declined by significant, as she was feeling unwell. It was pronounced edible by son, even though "it looked a little girlie". Real men don't eat cool things in hot weather evidently.
My poor Mother was on the verge of tears before they left. Fortunately, they aren't disinclined to eat and run.
The rest of the evening we sat in shocked silence and watched normal America celebrate the Fourth with music and fireworks, but the most freeing part of the holiday for me was its ending.