Sunday, May 15, 2011

Going Postal...

It's a lazy Sunday afternoon here. My daughter is napping, and although I tried to take a nap, after about 30 minutes I gave up and came downstairs. Too much caffeine warped the idea of that little luxury.

I tried to write this awesome post the other night, but the site was down, so you'll just have to take my word for it when I say it was going to be one of my best entries. Wish I could remember what I was going to write about....

I had a great week! I was able to get several things accomplished. I went up to base to get some information about my passport. I only had to wait a couple of minutes until my name was called and the woman who helped me was incredible.  I guess she's either one of the nicest people on earth, just bored, or a combination of both, because when I mentioned that I had gotten on the Social Security website to see about updating it myself and that it was confusing, she simply pulled up the site and did it all in five minutes. Made me feel kind of dumb, BUT she does do this sort of thing everyday and knew exactly what to do. All I have to do is get the passport pictures made and we're set. I walked out of there knowing I had just received some of the best customer service possible. Thanks, Ms. Woods... you rock!

After that errand, I went by the post office to see about putting in my claim for the broken music box that Bruce sent me around my birthday. The top was completely broken when I opened it. I thought I had everything I would need to get our money back. I had the receipt from him purchasing it. I had the box it was shipped in, which had all the labels. I had the music box itself. You'd think they would have a purpose for all those labels but as it turns out, they've only been created to ensure job security for all the postal workers. They make you fill out three labels, pay for insurance in which they slap on another three labels, and then give you a copy to keep. This process creates long lines at the post office, which makes them appear as if their jobs are very, very important when any supervisor might possibly walk through. Can't you see it?... "Well, we can't cut any jobs in the Postal Service. Have you seen the lines?!?!" After waiting in line... that is after waiting in the wrong line, only to be told I had to go wait in the right line once I'd made it to the front... I filled out this damn form four... I kid you not.... four times. It must be filled out in pen without any mistakes. The guy told me that since I didn't have the proof of insurance that my husband had paid, all of my stuff would be sent to St. Louis for "review". They don't subscribe to the same book of common sense that I do, so when I asked "Can't you just subtract the amount of the FLAT RATE SHIPPING COST from the total paid to determine how much insurance he paid for???" The guy looked at me confused. Yes, confused. His response was "Oh, I don't work the lines." Yeah, I believed him... he's probably just snorting them. Well, I have to admit I did get a little.. um... diligent on my end of things. Before I would let him brush me aside for the next customer I made him make copies of everything and took pictures of the box with my phone. He tried to tell me it would all be fine and that I didn't need copies, and I told him that while I appreciated his reassurance, I was ultimately responsible in making sure all my bases were covered at this point, considering there might be another issue and that I didn't feel safe leaving it to chance... Oh, and can you make another copy of this?... It's not quite clear. Whew...

Then on Thursday I went and got a $5 haircut. Best haircut I've had in a while, surprisingly enough! Now, I just need to color and highlight it myself and it'll be done. The first of many things on my looooooong list of beautification things I must do before Bruce comes home to visit. I won't go into all that since it'll probably leave me feeling hopeless, but I hope the couple of weeks I have 'til he gets here is enough time. I miss the days of just slapping on some gloss and mascara and being done with it.... oh wait, I never did have those days. Maybe in my next life...

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