Well, it canít be a Monday unless a whole steaming pile gets dumped on me, right? First thing this morning, too, just like I dreamed it. The Boss started faxing me little notes before I was even out of bed. Did we take care of this? Have we done that yet? So I faxed him back proof that Iíd already handled both This and That, weeks ago. I thought it would be better than actually talking to him.
Then Julie called and told me her typewriter was on the fritz. She gave me the long version, as usual. This time it was the call to the manufacturer, and everything the technician told her to try, and how much she paid for the thing, and how long ago (not very). What she wanted was for me to type the forms for the bid going in later this week, but I had to remind her that my old Selectric stopped typing months ago, and Iím none too keen to replace it. (For just this very reason.) So sheís going to handwrite the forms. As long as itís in ink, the state will accept it.
This all made me late going off on my errands, which included a trip to the new UPS store that replaced the old mailbox place that was forced out by the shopping center so they could get more rent from the UPS store. Then it was off to the bank, where I had to stand in line forever and they had the air conditioning set way too high. Or too low. Whatever, it was cold in there.
I had a few groceries to pick up, so itís a good thing I took some money out of the ATM when I deposited my paycheck, because somehow I managed to spend $88.00. At least it came out with no cents, so I got only dollar bills back. Somehow I found that comforting, even though I hate the newly remodeled supermarket because I have to push my cart up and down every aisle or I wonít find anything. But Iíve talked about that before, so thereís no need to complain again about how unrelated items are located across from each other, so that all the shoppers seem to end up in the same place at the same time. And they donít leave enough room in front of the milk section, what with all the cookies and breads they have piled up there. And— okay, thatís enough.
That wasnít the end of my trek, because I needed gas. At least I didnít have to hover behind someone, waiting for an empty pump. But the pump I got was defective, in a way that would have flummoxed me a couple of years ago. Iím much better at pumping gas now, but this nozzle would not go all the way down, and the handle kept shutting the pump off every time I squeezed it. So I had to fit the nozzle in about halfway and then squeeze the nozzle loosely to get any gas in my tank. Even with all that maneuvering, the pump still kept shutting off, but once I got past eight gallons I figured that was close enough to full, so I left.