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Yesterday I was surprised to find in our mailbox one of those little flyer things that tell you there’s a package waiting for you at the post office. So I was kind of excited, I mean this is the first actual mail addressed to me that’s come to this apartment. Not a huge deal, but one of those things that makes a place feel more like home than just a place you’re living, you know?

So anyway, J has his boss’s truck so he offered to drive us over to the little plaza where the post office outlet is. So we scooted on over there before the office closed to pick up my package. We go in and the lady asks if she can help us, so I pass over the little card and she scans it and then disappears in the back room – and comes back out with a phone book.

A fucking yellow pages phone book. I mean that the hell?

We got a phone book the first day we moved in because there was a stack of them in the foyer of the building. I mean I suppose it’s a nice gesture from the farking phone company (who, by the way, took seven – yes, SEVEN – days to move our phone over to the right address and then a couple more to even figure out that they had to flick a switch so we could also have the internet we paid for…) upon our move from one place to another. But come on. Leave the thing in the apartment foyer, it’s not like anyone is going to steal the stupid thing is it? And if they did, I doubt I’d really miss it.

Total letdown. Cripes.

As for the phone company that hosed us on the transfer? Yeah, toast. We decided to move to the cable company for digital phone and cable internet. Of course, that means we now have basic cable and that the bloody TV is now on almost 24-7.

listening to: PMDawn – Paper Doll
reading: Stephen King – On Writing

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