Firing Squad

For as assertive as I am, I have a terrible time telling people that I no longer want to use their services. I think it comes from the whole people pleaser thing I’ve got going on. Plus, I’m very empathetic and don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings. But. . .  and I might be going out on a limb here.  . .I think I am getting better at saying “no thanks” to people that I don’t want work with.

Exhibit A:

Mr. Darcy and I have been taking dance lessons at Arthur Murray on some group on type dealio. The teacher we had for our one-on-one was very nice but the whole vibe of the place wasn’t for us. Let’s put it this way- the dance teachers struck me as the Stepford Wives of ballroom dancing. Every time we went in they would try to up-sell us and make us commit to our “dance plan” for our wedding. And! They would write notes about us in these binders. Besides, who keeps binders anymore?

On our last group class was led by this marionette of an instructor who was impossible to hear except for her 1-2-3-beep-bop-da call out. By the 5th time I alternated back to Mr. Darcy he was sweating and looking rather miserable so we cut out of there early. We had our final one-on-one lesson scheduled a few days later and I just knew I didn’t want to go. I couldn’t face our teacher doing her pushy manipulation disguised as sweet encouragement. Lying in bed the next night,  I brought it up.

“I think we should not go back to Arthur Murray.”

“Agreed.”

“What should we tell them?”

“We should just not show up.”

“We can’t do that! We should at least call. . .We could tell them you are sick.”

“Lying to them is better than not showing up?”

“Yes! Because they have MY number and I know she will call me relentlessly to try to guilt me into rescheduling. I’m weak.”

“Tell her we’ve finally settled on our “Plan.” The “Plan” is we will stop showing up. It’s a concise plan.”

I sat there agonizing about calling and finally dialed. It was around 10:15pm so I was surprised when someone picked up the phone. I was only prepared to leave a voicemail not talk to a live human! So, I hung up. Mr. Darcy started laughing at me.

Then I decided we should just send an email. Mr. Darcy’s helpful stab at it was, “Dear Arthur Murray… It’s not you; it’s us. Well, mostly it’s you.” I went with something a little more fleshed out. It was clear but firm. And a little nice. I CANNOT HELP THE NICE.

I fully expected them to call me the next day. So far, no calls or emails. I think we’re in the clear and can go about finding a new dance instructor. But not at Arthur Murray. Never again.

Also, I might still kind of suck at breaking up with people.

Exhibit B:

We hired a lawn service shortly after moving into our house because it’s a lot of lawn and we don’t have a mower. Those are our excuses and we’re standing by them. The one man lawn service guy that I found on Craig’s List came by to give me an estimate, looked around the place, and told me it’d be $50 every two weeks for him to mow it. He doesn’t speak English very well but we managed to shake on a deal. He mowed the lawn that day and I told him I’d leave a check for him under the mat in 2 weeks when he was scheduled to return. Except two weeks went by and then a day and then two days and I finally called him and was like “what the heck?” and he was like “I come tomorrow!” And I’m like “OK but do you come every other Friday or what?” And he’s all “I come tomorrow.”

Uh, awesome. Great talking to you?

Then two weeks go by and Friday comes again. I leave a check but come home after work to lawn that has not been mowed. The weekend passes with no sign of him. Monday I come home from work and the lawn is mowed. Fine. Okay. Two more weeks go by and again, he doesn’t show on Friday, the weekend, or Monday. So Tuesday I call and our conversation goes something like:

“Hi I live at ….. and you are supposed to mow my lawn every other Friday.”

“Uh. Yes.”

“Well it’s Tuesday and you have not come.”

“I come tomorrow.”

“No do not come tomorrow. Don’t come again. You are fired.”

“Ohhhhhh.”

“You can’t expect to keep jobs when you don’t keep to the schedule you agree to. Don’t come back. Thank you. Good-bye.”

I was doing so well until the damn thank you. I guess I am still in people pleaser recovery mode. It’s a long process. Give me time. I’ll be Donald Trump soon enough.

I Don’t Want To Do Today: Exhibits A, B, C & D

Yesterday we got an email from our real estate agent that cc’d our broker and a new lender basically telling us that we had to move forward with moving our loan from one guy to the other. This was the first we were hearing of it as far as it being a done deal because our broker failed to call us Friday afternoon to tell us in person like he promised our agent he would. For some unknown reason, the only bank he seems to be able to work with for our loan is the one bank in the Universe who is pushing back on the six month thing and will not give the loan until after the seller has owned the house for 6 months (this is a matter of days, seriously). The seller buys and flips houses all the time and has never had this issue. Our agent has sold many houses like this and there has never been a financing issue. And the irony is, we went with a broker so he could shop around for the best deal for us and here we are back to the original guy who is only at ONE bank that our agent had suggested at the beginning.

So last night, instead of relaxing, we had to resubmit every piece of paperwork to the new guy and fill out his bank’s on line application. It sucks but we don’t want to not get this house so we will scramble to deliver whatever is necessary so we can close on May 23rd. Hopefully this new guy can make it work and at the rate we were originally quoted with the first lender. The first guy was really good about explaining stuff but this new guy is a big more brisk and talks in lender codes I don’t fully understand.

***

Yesterday as I was driving to work and on the phone (hands free!) talking to the plumber, my car seized up. I was on a busy street about 4 blocks from my office when the gas and battery light came on. My gas gauge was low but I didn’t think it was THAT low. It was a small miracle that I was able to coast into a gas station a block away. I filled the tank up and prayed that was the issue. Once full, the car started up fine and I was able to drive it to work. Thinking I’d solved the problem and gotten off easy (phew!), I got in my car at the end of the work day with no qualms. I was about 6 blocks from my apartment when the car did the same thing. . . with a full tank of gas. I managed to turn the car off and restart it after a few tries. I made it home with my hands gripping the wheel in total panic.

Which is how I will be driving to the mechanic today, hoping that my car makes it all the way out there without needing to be towed. And please don’t let it be an expensive fix! All our money is going into the wedding and the house.

***

While making dinner last night, in the midst of us both swearing at the computer because we were frustrated about the loan documents, I burned my knuckle on the inside of the oven. So much so that it blistered. And this morning at 6am it brushed against the comforter and I experienced a shooting pain in my hand. The blister had inadvertently popped.

Ouch.

***

Around 9:45 last night I got a call from a tenant who was locked INSIDE her apartment. Before you go thinking she’s an idiot, this building is very old and many of the doorknobs are ancient. I’ve seen this happen before but usually the tenant is outside of their apartment, not inside. Mr. Darcy and I tried to get it to open but ultimately we had to call an emergency locksmith who came out 30 minutes later. By this time we’re both exhausted and wishing we were in bed but we’ve got to stay up and pay the guy (with our own money then get reimbursed). The locksmith was a bit flummoxed but managed to use these air bags that he slid into the door crack, pumped up, and used to push the door open. It was pretty cool, actually. He was pressing his body weight on the door when the door popped open with a loud noise. He couldn’t replace the door knob because the mechanism was so old that the empty space it left in the door would not accommodate the new knob without adding more wood. So the tenant can at least get in and out of her apartment but I have to get our regular locksmith to come out today to finish the repair.

***

See why I want to stay in bed today?

Movers: Better Than Therapists at Saving Relationships

We heard yesterday that there is a potential issue with our closing date. The seller has not owned the house for 6 months and there are laws against “flipping” (when someone buys a house, fixes it up, sells it for more) that require that ownership time frame minimum. Most lenders don’t have an issue with this but apparently ours does. We specifically went with a broker so we could have access to different banks and now we’re potentially in a situation where we might have to switch loan officers to get this deal done in time. We should know more today or by Monday. Best case scenario, our broker figures this out with the bank. Worst case scenario, we have to switch loan officers and banks and maybe not get the rates we’ve locked in. Buying a house is stressful! (Not a newsflash!)

Meanwhile, the seller is fixing all the things we asked (which includes a new roof!) and we while we are waiting we are buying furniture. I can’t help myself! There’s nothing to do during this time but dream up home decor ideas and waste countless hours on research ideas Pinterest. I’ve been looking for bargains because I know we’re going to need furniture. Do the math: we’re going from a one bedroom apartment to a four bedroom house with two living rooms.

The other day while perusing Craig’s List, I came across this gem:

And I bought it. Two guys helped me load it into my car and for the rest of the week I drove around with it, not wanting to deal with moving it. But last night Mr. Darcy and I finally pulled it out, got it onto the driveway, and promptly got in a tussle about the best way to move it. There was a freezing wind whipping about and as we stood there staring at the dresser with our hoodies zipped up tight, we came to a standstill on how we should move it from the driveway to all the way around the building and into the storage room.

I finally ran and grabbed the dolly so we could have some leverage (Sizzle good idea: +1) and Mr. Darcy suggested using a blanket to cushion it (Darcy good idea: +1). But then we stood there freezing our butts off and arguing back and forth about the best way to load the damn thing onto the dolly, both so afraid of scratching it. I’m telling Darcy to just MAKE A DECISION and he’s trying to accommodate me and we’re getting nowhere so we turn the dresser on its side and get it to the other entrance where we managed to get it down 2 steps, through a doorway, down 2 more big steps and into the storage room (which is technically the building’s maintenance room where the water heaters and miscellaneous supplies are but is currently where we are storing all our future-house purchases).

We did it! Hallelujah!

But then I started thinking that if this was some sort of pre-marital test, we had failed. We don’t collaborate very well when it comes to things like this. Hell, we had many back and forths about the Christmas card design which made me hesitant when Mr. Darcy said he wanted to design our wedding invitation- not because he’s not super talented (he is!) but because we tend to see things very differently. The fact that we agreed on colors for our wedding in a 1 minute conversation still astounds me.

All this prompted me to tweet: If moving that piece of furniture from my car to the storage room was some sort of pre-marital test, I think Mr. Darcy & I failed.

To which Mr. Darcy replied: I beg to differ. No scratches, no dings, no damage. And the furniture is fine too. 🙂

Which is one of the many reasons I am marrying him.

And why we are hiring movers.

Many on Twitter agreed that moving and moving furniture specifically has tested their relationships. My favorites are: Abby who said everyone gets a free pass when moving or assembling furniture, or making gravy (Gravy! I love it.) and Badgerreader who said that wallpaper was her parents undoing (besides packing).

That got me thinking about what set my parents off and I distinctly recall the culprit being: Christmas lights.

What about you? What seemingly mundane or trivial thing sets off an argument in your relationship? Or what was it in your parents relationship?

When Things Break

The moment you declare you are aggressively saving money, the Universe will throw back its head and laugh. Then make the screen on your 1.5 year old flat screen television go out.

We were not in the market to buy a new tv but we bought one this weekend, much to our savings account’s dismay. This is after having to buy a replacement computer since my old desktop was constantly running its fan and had a virus. And of course, after Christmas shopping which is always like a Joanie Greggains aerobics class for my bank account.

(Does anyone remember Joanie Greggains? I used to work out to her show on tv as a kid with my Mom.)

I digress. The point is we’re set back a bit on the savings and January is going to wear a very tight belt. That’s okay. I’m going to be on a strict eating/working out regime anyhow so the belts will be tight all around. I’m trying to have a non-panicked attitude about it. It’s ok! It’s just money. And we’re lucky to be in the position we are, blah, blah, blah, yadda, yadda. Mr. Darcy’s mom sent us a holiday card with 3 wise men on it. She said she’d heard that if you put it above your door you will bring wealth to your home. I stuck it up there immediately. Within 5 minutes it fell down. So I put more tape on it and stuck it up real good because COME ON FINANCIAL SECURITY!

If it falls down again, I’m just going to staple it to the wall.

Besides freaking out about money, I cried a lot this weekend. First, I thought it was because I didn’t like my new haircut. I went in to get the same exact cut as last time since I loved it so much but then she got over-zealous with the scissors and left me with a very short ‘do (even for me!). I’m disappointed since I had my heart set on a certain look. The bright side is my hair grows like weeds so this shouldn’t last more than a couple weeks. I just feel very EXPOSED and my face feels big and long without the bangs and hair over my ears. Oh vanity, you are not becoming.

I wasn’t really crying about my hair even if my sadness over the cut sparked the feelings. I’m still not 100% sure the root of the crying but I’m pretty sure it had something (everything) to do with fear. Just fear about the future, about finances, about the big choices looming before us, about Mr. Darcy potentially proposing to me in the near future. I was talking to my book club friends about that this weekend. I told them how I was never that girl who dreamed of her wedding or planned it in her head as a kid. I never thought I would get married. I never let myself think someone would ever ask me. I was so desperately afraid I’d never be asked that I convinced myself it was something I didn’t need or want or desire. My low self-esteem drove that thought process and I’m still, at 38, trying to come to grips with this notion that someone wants to spend the rest of their life with me. A lot of feelings of unworthiness bubble up. I worry I will fuck it up, that he’ll change his mind, that we’ll hurt each other or worse, lose one another. It’s twisted to think that by avoiding the commitment and the depth of caring I’ll somehow save myself heartache when in reality, it’s no way to live not connected to your own emotions and your heart. To not take the leap and risk it all.

So I am trying to feel the feelings and let Mr. Darcy in. I push away a lot but he persists and I can’t thank him enough for not giving up and for loving me, even when I am a weeping, red-faced girl who doesn’t have the words to explain that I want this and him and our life so badly. I do. I do. I do. I’m hoping the tears made way for new feelings – good ones like hope and trust and love.

Before 11am

My trusty computer that has lasted me almost 7 years is on its last leg. We finally broke down and ordered a lap top that should arrive early next week (not the coveted Mac which we went 20 rounds about and finally decided to be frugal and not spend $1500 on a computer when we are pinching every penny for a house). So of course our virus protection would run out this week, right? That’s rule number 46 in the Game of Life rule book.

Last night, Mr. Darcy spent hours trying to recover our computer from the blue screen of death. It finally worked and we were back in (precarious) business for the time being. But then this morning when I went to start it up, I got a bunch of warning pop ups saying our protection was expired and to act immediately and basically YOUR COMPUTER IS GOING TO BLOW UP. I kept trying to exit out of them so that I could update our Norton protection and it wouldn’t let me. Frustrated, I finally just clicked a legit-looking box that said “XP Home Security 2011”.

Here’s where I will jump to the lesson and warn you: Do not click that box! It is a virus!

How did I learn this? Because AFTER I clicked the $59.95 one year protection AND gave it our credit card number, nothing happened. No download now box came up. The “support” part of the website seemed really bogus though I did finally get it to accept my request. I started to panic. I did a google search and discovered that I had just given private information to a non-legit site.

Holy crap!

I called the bank to report a fraudulent charge. It doesn’t even show up as anything related to XP but as a “yahoo” thing. LIARS. After three calls to my bank, one hang up (on their part) and a 12 minute hold time, I finally talked to a live person who basically told me to go into a bank and have them issue me a temporary card and to CALL BACK once the charge went through so she could file a claim.

Not awesome.

I’m not feeling very well- like I am fighting off the beginnings of a head cold- so I had already decided to stay home from work. I spent almost 2 hours dealing with the computer nightmare (I finally got Norton installed so I think I am slightly better off than I was at the beginning though we’re going to use our computer on a limited basis until the new one arrives). I now get to go to the dentist for a cleaning. Because today keeps getting more fun, right?

I’m going to wear sweats and my glasses because I’ve given up on today.

Sigh.

En-Titled

As I was leaving for work yesterday I checked the mail and found something official looking from the California DMV. I got super excited thinking this was what I’d long been waiting for and I could FINALLY (after months of back and forth) get my car tags.

Hallelujah!

But when I went to the licensing office I was told what I had in my possession was a registration form for my car, not the title. I confess I knew it wasn’t the actual title because, you know, I can read and all but I figured it was worth a shot going down to the place and seeing if it’d be sufficient. The disgruntled lady with the very gross arm wound bandaged with what appeared to be clear tape took pity on me after I showed her my mountain of paperwork proving I had been working on this issue for months. I think the fact that I as near tears might have helped (it was real distress). She issued me a 60 day pass that I could tape to my window which would at least help me avoid tickets for a couple of months while I figured this out.

Disheartened and incredibly frustrated, I headed home. I was feeling very stabby and when I arrived home I went off on this whole situation in a diatribe to an audience of two cats and my boyfriend. I am so tired of fighting the DMV bureaucracy – where no one knows what the hell they are doing and everyone gives you a different answer and yet you STILL DO NOT HAVE YOUR CAR TITLE. I paid off my car! I own it! GIVE ME THE TITLE, FUCKERS!

Poor Mr. Darcy. He listened and let me vent because he has learned you do not try to reason with me when I am on a PMS-fueled rant. It’s much too dangerous.

As I was making dinner, Mr. Darcy went downstairs to collect the day’s mail. He opened our apartment door and said, “I think I have something here that is going to make you happy.” Doubtful, I looked at the envelope he was handing me and wouldn’t you know it? It was my long-awaited car title. The actual bona-fide title. In my hands. I jumped up and down and screamed and hugged him. My mood dramatically shifted in those few seconds. Finally! Finally, I can get my car tabs and I officially own my car. What a fucking nightmare it has been. I truly hope no one else has to go through the bullshit hassles I’ve been through.

Mr. Darcy just paid his car off a couple of weeks ago (yay us!) and he also received a letter the other day from his loaning bank that his title would arrive to him within 10 days. His car is registered in WA but he bought it in NJ. In that stack of mail he’d discovered my car title, he also had an official-looking envelope. He opened it to discover his car title. His car title arrived without incident and within 2 days of the notice that he’d paid off his car.

Can you believe it? We’re examples of both extremes. I think I would opt for his experience over mine, any day. I’m off this morning to the licensing office (my 4th visit in this whole fiasco). Wish me luck.

Frustration, Sadness, Disbelief

File under: Frustration

Yesterday on my way to work I got pulled over by a cop.

I was not more than 4 blocks from my apartment when I noticed the lights flashing behind me. It startled me because I’ve been hyper-vigilant about cops since this whole car registration fiasco. Just the other day a cop was driving up behind me and I turned off the street- a direct route to my home- just so he wouldn’t have time to investigate my plates. I felt like a fugitive for a few minutes. It also ended up taking me 10 minutes longer to get home that day.

So yesterday morning I must have not been in my A game because all of a sudden there he was. When I pulled over I almost drove up on the curb. I knew I hadn’t run a red light or been speeding. I had been using my phone but with my hands free device to leave a message for the window cleaner guy. I fumbled to throw my phone in my purse even though what I was doing was not illegal I suddenly felt like I was in trouble for everything. I grabbed my license, registration and insurance and the stack of papers I have as proof that I have been working on getting my title for months.

Months! I still do not have my title from the CA DMV which is preventing me from updating my tags. Which is making we drive around like a criminal. Which is pissing me off.

Luckily this officer was very nice. He was, in fact, pulling me over for expired tags and so I plunged into my explanation and handed over my wad of papers that indicated I had been doing my due diligence in the matter. He went back to his car to read over them and then returned a few minutes later with some tips on where to go to get better help in town on this matter (a place I had yet to try which was really helpful!) and he let me off with a written warning. I thanked him profusely and drove off with my heartbeat slowly returning to normal. I’ve heard that if you get pulled over with expired tags it’s considered a moving violation and can cost hundreds of dollars. No thanks! I just want this ordeal over with but I can’t seem to get the DMV to cooperate despite multiple calls and faxes. Their bureaucracy is totally ridiculous and antiquated.

*****

File under: Sad

This is the last week I will be working with my best friend at the office. We started around the same time 5 years ago and she’s landed her dream job elsewhere. I am very happy for her as her friend and incredibly sad for me as her co-worker. It’s getting really lonely at my job. As I plan her good-bye parties (yes, plural) and write in her card I’m trying not to cry.

*****

File under: Disbelief

Today is my nephew’s first day of Kindergarten.

Where did the time go? I swear it was just yesterday that he was a little tyke toddling around on little legs, easy to pick up and carry. Now he’s a Kid with a capital K. He’s not even my kid and yet I am so proud of him and my heart breaks a little at how time flies.

My sister sent me this photo at 8am this morning. The backpack. The crooked smile. Oh man he is adorable! (And yes, I cried when I saw it.)

A Real Pisser

Many of you are privy to my growing irritation with my 3G iPhone. For months now it has only intermittently charged despite the fact that I have 3 different charger cables. It will stubbornly only accept a charge from my car charger which has probably led many a neighbor to wonder what on earth I am doing in my driveway sitting in my parked car at all hours of the day and night, not actually driving anywhere.

I took my iPhone to Apple where the Genius Bar employee plugged it into a charger and on first attempt, it gave her the same asshole message it’s been giving me “charging is not supported with this accessory”. Which, if you didn’t know, is just its way of flipping me the bird. On the 2nd, 3rd and 4th attempts it synched up and charged.

Motherfucker.

We tried my charger and it worked. Even I tried plugging it in and it worked. My iPhone was putting on quite the performance! So I took it on vacation and OF COURSE it didn’t work with my charger. Not once. But! It would work with my sister’s charger and, yes, in the car.

To put it mildly, my phone has been making me angry.

So. . . last night right before Mr. Darcy and I were leaving for his birthday dinner, I went the bathroom. Yes, yes, I know you don’t really want to picture me peeing (trust me, I don’t want you to either) but this is very important for the rest of the story. I got up from the toilet and as I turned to flush my iPhone flew out of the shallow pocket of my dress and plopped right into the toilet. During those few seconds as it flew through the air in a trajectory of imminent demise my life slowed. It was like inside my head I was screaming a slow “noooooooooooooooo!” but was paralyzed to intervene. The moment it landed I immediately reached in and grabbed it, pawing off the protective case and wiping it down.

I stuck my hand in my own urine. That is how addicted to my iPhone I am.

I ran to the fan, turned it on full blast and held it in front of it while screaming to Mr. Darcy, “I DROPPED MY PHONE IN THE TOILET!” He looked up fixes on the internet while I used the hair dryer on it. Then I stuck it in a bag of rice as I lamented how as much as the phone has been a pain in my ass for months, I am lost without it.

A sad, true fact.

Twitter and Facebook friends gave good suggestions and at least I know I am not the only one to get my iPhone wet. After leaving the phone in a bag of rice overnight the screen still has some water damage and it’s a bit slow but it’s working. Kinda. I made an appointment with the Genius Bar for today anyhow and will likely bite the bullet and purchase a 4G. I had been holding out for the 5G but with the charging issues and now the dip it took in the pee pool, I can’t wait.

It’s days like this where I miss the simplicity of my flip phone. Or, hell, our old rotary phone that didn’t have call waiting.

The Flip Side

The bulk mailing assembly nightmare is complete. If you were wondering how long it takes 10-14 people to assemble a 3 piece mailing including labeling and sorting by zip code, it takes 3 work days. And yes, it sucks. But if you have good company you can persevere. Also, swearing helps. Now I just have to drop all 3,887 letters to the bulk mail office which is always a treat (sarcasm).

Today is my last day of work for over a week. At first I was going to take Friday to Friday off but after the past 4 days? I am going to ask for more time. I need it to get my head on straight. I figure 3 extra days ought to do it. (Ha!) I just feel. . . complain-y and short-fused and wallowing in the dark side and I do not like it one bit. I am hoping some time off, some travel, some family time, some sunshine and a walk down memory lane will assist me in clearing away the negativity. Besides, I will be by the ocean for six days and if anything can set me straight and give me perspective, it’s the sea.

I might feel tempted to post while we are gone but I’m hoping to take a tech break- blogging, Twitter and Facebook. I feel overloaded by it all and think that stepping away for a week will give me some clarity and help me listen to my own voice. I’ve been struggling to hear myself over the chatter. It’s time for a reconnection to self.

I’ll return in a week or so, hopefully restored and full of stories.

 

A List of Annoyances

Things That Are Frustrating Me: A List

I got a letter from a collection agency that stated I had failed to pay a bill from my insurance from 2009. I called them because I had no recollection of receiving said bill. The first time I called the receptionist informed me all the debt collectors were in a meeting and could I call back in an hour. I asked for a voice mail to which she “transferred” me back into the voice mail vortex where in I had to push a bunch of buttons only to be sent back to HER. So I hung up and called back later. When I finally spoke to someone she informed me that I had not paid a bill that had been sent to me three times. “To what address were these bills mailed because I have never received them?” To which she replied with my old address from four years ago. This is the same insurance company I CURRENTLY HAVE and yet they can’t seem to find my current address? I get mail from them! This is asinine. And I don’t want this debt collection to mar the good credit I have been building up since my bankruptcy filing nine years ago.

Now I get to call my insurance company and attempt to get them to remove me from debt collection. I will pay the bill but not the penalties.

*************

I got mail from the California DMV and guess what? They sent back my application for a duplicate title and my check because they state: “Records show your vehicle is being registered out-of-state. That state has to issue your title” BUT GUESS WHAT? When I go to a Washington licensing agency (2x I’ve done this), they claim that their records show that California holds the title which is why I mailed them the forms and have been waiting for a month for a reply. It appears that California and Washington need to work on clarifying their communication. Meanwhile, I am driving around with expired tags hoping on a daily basis that I do not get ticketed.

So I get to call California DMV again and to visit another Washington licensing agency to try to get to the bottom of this. It’s very likely that I will be standing in line at the CA DMV next week when I am on vacation. That is absolutely not how I had planned to relax.

GRRRRRRRR!

*************

I have two kitchen cabinet doors that have broken glass. The landlords want me to use a different company than we usually use because they are cheaper. Which means I have to find time in my insane week to drive them out to White Center (south of where I live by the airport so about 20 minutes each way). The other company came to us which was a far cry more convenient for an apartment manager that has another job. Oh, and, the glass company is only open 8:30-5pm. Very inconvenient.

*************

I am about a month behind on mailing out a save the date letter about a November fundraiser. First, you should know that I hate mailings. I prefer to get an email about something and not waste paper but I am dealing with a constituency of people who are not of my generation and respond to actual letters delivered by a mail carrier. A bunch of things have gotten in the way of it going out on time, some of which were not my fault, but yesterday it was all my fault.

We have this small note paper that is like mini-letterhead- the letter I am sending is being sent on that. After merging the document and testing to be sure it lined up correctly, I hit print and ran to the copier to manually feed the paper from the bypass tray. The mailing is 3,857 pieces. It took two hours of manually feeding it and hogging the office copier to complete it. I even had to snag a co-worker to help me so that I could sit in a two-hour meeting wherein I sat listening to my boss present our fiscal year fundraising plan and I was told I didn’t have to say  anything. Waste of time? I think you know my answer. (Meetings should only be an hour and they are a lot less boring if I am asked to contribute. I digress.)

So I have these letters and am trying to print out an insert that I can then cut and fold plus locating enough envelopes for the entire thing when I realize I should have just sent this damn thing to a mail house as it is WAY too big for me to turn around and get it in the mail within a couple of days. I will have to rope my co-workers into labeling and stuffing. It’s a nightmare. EXCEPT! It gets worse. Because I happened to glance at one of the printed letters and realized it merged with the a previous version of the letter not the most up-to-date one which means I HAVE TO DO IT ALL OVER. It’s one sentence difference but that one sentence implies that the person receiving the letter had attended this event in the past and for half of these folks, that’s not true.

Oh and in between all this a co-worker I really like and admire gave her notice. Thursday is another friend/co-worker’s good-bye party before he moves to Los Angeles. Last week two  different awesome co-workers left the agency and a couple of my closest work pals are looking for new employment. It’s depressing and I am very sad about how the agency is changing and my friends are all leaving.

Add that to the mailing debacle and I was proclaiming that I should just quit. It was one of those days where it just seemed easier.

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I haven’t fully pulled myself up by my boot straps today but I am up early and headed into the office to stand at the copier and print 3,857 mini-letters before my fellow employees come in and need the printer.

I have a headache.

I think I want to find a new job.

I need a vacation.

What’s annoying you?