Monday, November 9, 2009

God's Creatures, the US Mail, Hollywood: Another Monday

I know not to start re-reading one of the books from the "Twilight Saga," but I needed to re-read "New Moon" before the movie comes out. I stayed up too late last night reading. (I finished it today at lunch so unless I start"Eclipse" tonight, I should be able to get to sleep early.) So of course, when the alarm went off at 6:30am, I pushed it back another half hour. ZZZzzzz. Which only left me a half hour to get ready in, which is almost impossible with my hair. But I got up and dragged myself in the bathroom, used it, brushed my teeth, got in the shower, washed my hair-- you get the picture. I was drying off when I noticed a black blur moving slowly on the wall. (I didn't have my glasses on.) I got closer to see if I was hallucinating. OH NO I WASN'T! One of the nastiest of God's creatures ever to walk the earth was walking the edge of my mirror like it was walking the ridge pole of a roof. I started screaming and had to leave the room before I fainted, where if I had fainted in the bathroom that nasty roach would have had a chance to crawl across me and my subconcious would know this was happening and just throw me into a coma where I would remain for hundreds of years and by then would wake to an earth only inhabited by roaches, wherein I would just have to kill myself. I shudder to think. So instead I sat on my bed to freak out a bit before I went back to kill it with my shoe. By the time I got back, it had made its way to the corner of my counter and that's where I smashed it. Never do that. It was disgusting. I could only stomach cleaning up part of it. I had to finish getting ready at work, because my half hour was up. When I got home I paid my sister $10 to clean up the rest of the remains.

While at work, our mail carrier, who always rings the damn doorbell, even though we have a glass door and she can see plain as day that I am sitting right there ready to let her in if only she would turn her head just a wee bit to the right and open her eyes and wait a second, left behind two stacks of our catalog mailouts. (I was at lunch.) Its that whole opening your eyes thing that I think she has a problem with. Anyway, I had to call the US Post Office to make a complaint and get her butt back there. Only you can't call the post office down the street, oh no, they keep that phone number in a safe deposit box at the bank. I had to call the 1-800 #, where I got stuck in Automated Operator Option Land. I finally just said, "Speak to a customer representative." Wherein the automated voice said, "You said speak to a customer representative, but we need to know what you are going to ask. You can say things like, look up a zipcode, or..." I cut it off and said firmly, "Okay, look for a zipcode." "Okay, you said, look up a zipcode. What city do you need the zipcode for?" "I DON'T WANT A ZIPCODE!" "It sounded like you said Duluth, Minnesota. Is this correct?" "NOOOO! Speak to a representative!" "Hold on a moment while I get a customer service representative for you." "Thank you!!" Grrrr. So then I spoke to someone who had to patch me through to the complaints department, who acted like why am I calling them, I should be calling the post office down the street. He gave me the number. I framed it.

Just one more thing and then I need to go further clean the bathroom. (With inflation as it is these days, $10 would only get the roach off the floor.)

I think Hollywood has discovered "Edward" and whisked him away from a mundane job at the hotel next door. Two weeks (and the two different times I sneaked over to eat lunch) and no sign of Edward. Unless he saw me coming and hid in the back. But no one else has seen him either. Good luck "Edward." Break a leg! (Watch out for stalkers.)

(This just in. Our apartments have cut the water off. Again. Perfect way to end a Monday.)

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