A Dip in the Cosmic Energy
Ugh. Today was "a day." And no, not in a good way.
I started out this morning with grand plans of accomplishment. I had a to-do list. I had errands mapped out in the most efficient route possible. I had everything I needed to distribute - a DVD back to the video store, checks to the bank, an ASL book to a friend - all lined up and ready to go. There's a saying that goes "the only way to make God laugh is to make plans." I'm here to tell you that's true.
So, I started the morning by sending out emails and paying bills (numbers four and seven on my to-do list, but I could do them at home, so I did them). Well, I've changed browsers, so my bank ID and password weren't saved. That meant I had to go to the car to get my ATM card for my ID (I have a garage and just keep my purse in the car. I'm less likely to leave it at home that way. This fact is important to my story). So, I pay the bills, get some laundry cycling through the machines in the basement, get the girls fed and dressed and get ready to go.
I started out by completely blowing a chiropractor's appointment because traffic is backed up a quarter of a mile to get on the main road out of my town. You need to understand that I don't live in a metro area. I live in Podunk. Well, it's not Middle of Nowhere, but it's in the same area code. Now, though, it seems we're a suburb of Boston, there's been STUPID development in the area and now there are more cars than our roads can handle. So I call the chiro office on my cell (we're not so podunky that I don't have cell service) and pull a U-turn. I drive RIGHT BY MY HOUSE on my way to the next errand. This fact is also important to my story, so keep it in mind.
I have to have my background checked. I'm going to be teaching in a high school in, oh, seven days, and the school system wants to make sure I'm not a pervert. This means fingerprinting. I have a couple of cop friends who told me that I can go to any police station - "any" is an important detail here - to get this done as long as I have the official card, and I HAVE the official card, so I went to the police station on the way to my errand. I got to the station, parked the car, grabbed the card and went for my purse to get my licence and...... yeah. It's still on the table. CRAP. Load the girls back in the car and drive BACK to the house to get the purse. Now keep in mind that I JUST drove by my house to get out of the stupid line of traffic. Back I went. Got the purse, moved the wet clothes into the drier, and went back to try again.
I get into the police department and a not-so-friendly woman behind what I'm only guessing is bullet-proof glass (and with good reason, really, because *I* certainly wanted to do her bodily harm when our encounter was over) tells me, in a not-so-friendly way that, because I'm not a citizen of the town, I can't have my fingerprints done there. As if the town where I live has special ink or something that reacts to my resident-prints making them more valid. UGH. So I have to go BACK to my town to get my prints done, which they do nicely and for free. It was, perhaps, the only bright spot in my day.
I managed to deliver a few of the things I needed to send out - I deposited the checks, returned a DVD and delivered the ASL book, but I was thwarted again when I tried to straighten out a snag having to do with a parking permit for my University. I need a receipt for the permit so I can get reimbursed by my department, but the University is automatically deducting the amount from my paycheck, which means no receipt. Another not-so-nice woman (who was dangerously unprotected by any barriers, though I managed to restrain myself) told me that I couldn't fix the problem (or, more to the point, she WOULDN't fix it) and I'd just have to figure out a way around it. Hey, Lady; I'm thinking of a finger....
Here's hoping that tomorrow is a better day.
1 Comments:
Was it your index finger? Were you thinking of that one? Did you want to point her to a training session or a better attitude? Wow, you're so nice, even when people are thwarting you.
What? Not the index? Huh.
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