Tuesday, September 11, 2007

One, two, three, four...

Counting to ten isn't going to be enough. I may have to count to a million.
If you were looking for knitting, I'm sorry, but today you aren't getting it. I am normally not someone who gets upset about little things but today, today I am so angry I can barely see straight.
Let's start from the beginning. The day started fine with getting up and spending a few minutes snuggling with hubby on the couch watching TV until he had to get ready for work. (Two days a week he works an evening shift so this was one of those days) When he got up to get ready, I went into the kitchen to make myself some coffee. Disaster struck! I use an unusual coffee pot. It's handmade pottery and is a carafe with a lid and also a funnel. In the funnel, you put a cone filter and then the grounds and pour boiling water over it. It makes fabulous coffee and while, we do have a regular coffeemaker, this is better because it makes just the two cups that I drink. Usually, I use my hot pot to heat the water and pour it in slowly a bit at a time. Today, it was going really nice and quick and I poured all the water in, only to discover that it had ripped a hole in the bottom of the filter and leaked all the coffee grounds into the pot.
Mess ensued. While trying to refilter the coffee to get the grounds out, I managed to spill about a half a cup all over the kitchen counter. I should have known to just stay home and go lie in bed knitting because that was an excellent indication of how the rest of my day was going to go.
But no, I am apparently, a glutton for punishment because I decided to run some errands. Yup, that's right, might as well tattoo idiot across my forehead. I went to the yarn store and the grocery store for just a few things. I finally remembered to pick up the pictures that I ordered online and discovered that you HAVE to pay for them at the photo counter. So, even though I have a cart full of other stuff, I have to pay twice. Stupid, stupid store. Then, (it's a rather large supermarket) while I was in the back, trying to find Fat Free Half and Half which they are apparently out of and have decided to fill the spaces usually taken up by it with regular half and half, I realized that I needed to use the restroom. Badly and immediately. The only restrooms are at the front of the store. I was in the back. Of course, what else. So, I rush to the front of the store and get to the door, that I recently entered through and notice a large orange fence and a sign, these restrooms are closed. Yup, closed. You have to go all the way over to the deli to use the teeny tiny restroom over there. Where there was, of course, a line. It is only by the grace of God that I made it in time. I decide to head for home, having paid twice in one stupid store and stop at the post office to pick up our mail on the way home.
It should be noted here that we live in a small town about 6 miles away from a city. The city isn't huge but since I was working in that city, when we moved into my uncle's house, we have our Post Office Box (where we receive all of our mail) in the City. The Post office is currently being remodeled. You probably know where I'm going with this, but I am an optimist. I thought, I'll just nip in here and get our mail and be on my way. When I had to drive through the parking lot twice just to find a parking space that was about a 1/4 mile away from the freaking door, I should have known. (The parking lot is long and has only one row of spaces which are usually all but two or three, empty. Not today. I had to drive through, wait for 6 cars to pull ahead of me out onto the busy street to loop around and go through again.) I do this, park and grab my keys and run in. They have changed the layout completely. There is a line of (and I'm not exaggerating here) 20 people. Now, some of you are probably thinking, well, in my post office, it's not unusual for there to be more than 20 people waiting but this is a smallish city post office and I am used to seeing a max of 5 people in the place. This included the 3 older gentlemen who run the counter. They aren't particularly speedy but they do usually keep the line down to a minimum. I walk all along the new row, looking for our Post Office Box number. I finally find it and insert the key. It doesn't work. I am so angry by this point that I can't even wait in the line to find out what's wrong (I just paid the box fee like 2 months ago so it isn't that.) I storm out to the vehicle and head home. Just be glad I had to drive 6 miles or this post would be filled with the language I normally avoid!!!!
P.S. Note to the "gangsta" style teenager who ambled slowly across the busy intersection in front of me on the way home. Watch out for the lady in the little red van. At this point, I would have no qualms about driving over you and I would keep on going.

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