Just one of those bizarre days....
I received a knock on my door this morning from a neighbor in my apartment complex. He was holding a package that had been delivered, or rather left in front of his door, last night. Again, our elusive blind mailman struck again. He has a 50 percent rate of success in getting the right letter to the right apartment, and this shouldn't have bothered me but it was a book I had to special order for my Rhetorical Criticism class, AND it was marked delivery confirmation, meaning there was neither confirmation nor successful delivery.
So, I went to the post office to complain, indicating that I'm expecting a lot of packages, and I'd like the lottery chance odds of actually being able to see them sometime in the future. Well, I discovered that even though my zip code's post office delivers mail to us, they don't have supervisors. Which kind of begs a question of who is really watching the people in this post office. So, I had to go to another post office, which I should have suspected was in the middle of Gangland, USA. Several knife fights, a raging gun battle and several drive bys later, I was able to speak to the MOST BEAUTIFUL ASIAN WOMAN IN ALL STOCKTON, who was the supervisor to whom I was privileged to complain. Almost kind of forgot I was supposed to complain when I got to speak to her at her window. Anyway, made my complaint and came home.
Then, got a knock on the door, and my NEW FUTON had just arrived by UPS. Yes, if your name is Melanie, and you're from Germany, I'm sure you recognize Version 2.0 of the "futon". This one is multi-colored, but it's the one from before, the one I had to give up when moving across the country. But now, I have it again!
My current half-sofa that is provided in my apartment is about as comfortable as one of those nail beds that the great masters use to prove how...okay, I'm not sure what they're trying to prove other than there might be a shortage of Seely mattresses in India. I am so glad I don't have to use that sofa anymore as my main one.
Anyway, not much more to add. There is a tournament this weekend, which means I'll be on the road again. Same is going to happen next weekend as well.
Lots of work for school. Lots of work for writing. Lots of work for pretty much everything else. I thought over the weekend I would try to do some relaxing and find a massage therapist for a stress reducing massage, but all I seemed to be locating were the people who used "massage" as a pseudonym for something a lot more intimate, and that most definitely is not what I was looking for. Finally, I gave up. I'm pretty sure Kaiser has some kind of service that I could use with my medical plan, but their web site was designed by Van Gogh or H. Bosch, so every time I access it, I can't tell if I've scheduled an appointment with my doctor who doesn't speak English, or if I've scheduled to have a guitar inserted into my stomach in a way that it appears the stomach might also be inserted into the guitar.
Stumble It!
So, I went to the post office to complain, indicating that I'm expecting a lot of packages, and I'd like the lottery chance odds of actually being able to see them sometime in the future. Well, I discovered that even though my zip code's post office delivers mail to us, they don't have supervisors. Which kind of begs a question of who is really watching the people in this post office. So, I had to go to another post office, which I should have suspected was in the middle of Gangland, USA. Several knife fights, a raging gun battle and several drive bys later, I was able to speak to the MOST BEAUTIFUL ASIAN WOMAN IN ALL STOCKTON, who was the supervisor to whom I was privileged to complain. Almost kind of forgot I was supposed to complain when I got to speak to her at her window. Anyway, made my complaint and came home.
Then, got a knock on the door, and my NEW FUTON had just arrived by UPS. Yes, if your name is Melanie, and you're from Germany, I'm sure you recognize Version 2.0 of the "futon". This one is multi-colored, but it's the one from before, the one I had to give up when moving across the country. But now, I have it again!
My current half-sofa that is provided in my apartment is about as comfortable as one of those nail beds that the great masters use to prove how...okay, I'm not sure what they're trying to prove other than there might be a shortage of Seely mattresses in India. I am so glad I don't have to use that sofa anymore as my main one.
Anyway, not much more to add. There is a tournament this weekend, which means I'll be on the road again. Same is going to happen next weekend as well.
Lots of work for school. Lots of work for writing. Lots of work for pretty much everything else. I thought over the weekend I would try to do some relaxing and find a massage therapist for a stress reducing massage, but all I seemed to be locating were the people who used "massage" as a pseudonym for something a lot more intimate, and that most definitely is not what I was looking for. Finally, I gave up. I'm pretty sure Kaiser has some kind of service that I could use with my medical plan, but their web site was designed by Van Gogh or H. Bosch, so every time I access it, I can't tell if I've scheduled an appointment with my doctor who doesn't speak English, or if I've scheduled to have a guitar inserted into my stomach in a way that it appears the stomach might also be inserted into the guitar.
Stumble It!
posted by Duane @ 3:19 PM
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