So I made the call today. Doesn't matter who I called or what I was doing, what's more interesting is how I was doing it. First, even though I've had a couple of calls put through to this office, I don't seem to have the number in my Pilot. Or bookmarked in mozilla. Or refered to by a referenced mozilla bookmark. Honest mistake, right. I can't always record everything in my Pilot right? And I was probably in a hurry all those times I looked up the number, right? And it was on the screen, and easy to find, right? Why do I need it in my Palm? Right.
So I finally do manage to find a related phone number, so I call for the number to the local branch. And I write it down. And I write it down again in my Palm Desktop. And I call hoppie, who's not there. When it becomes obvious that I'm stalling (which it probably was to you by the second line of this post), I deicde it can't be put off again. I call. And I get a bizarre, obviously personal, answering machine message completely unrelated to the business of my call. So I decide the number doesn't work. I start cross-checking the phone number. Much time later, after squeezing in a little work and a few other things, including researching the number, I decide it's the right number, so I call again. A suit type answering machine message. Okay, now I know I'm dialing the wrong number. So I carefully, painstakingly crosscheck each number before dialing. It's answered by the receptionist on the second ring. I make an appointment. For Monday.
Monday? What the hell happened to the usual 2 or 3 month stalling period where they hope you find someone else or die before they have to see you? I was counting on that!!!!!! What the hell is wrong with you people? Have you no respect for the natural order of things? So I try to articulate this to Wayne and he says, "this is better. You'll get it over with."
Is that really how men think? I don't want to get it over with. I simply don't want to do it at all!
Oh, and one more, as I'm putting the address in my palm, I put it in the wrong spot. So I cut it from there to paste it into the right spot. Meanwhile I do a phone number lookup to link the phone number to the address lable. It wipes the text in memory. Now I don't have the address anymore. Oh one can definitely make the claim that I didn't realize it would happen that way, and yet, when you add it to all the other evidence, doesn't it sort of point the other way. But not to worry, sportsfans, I got the address on line. Still didn't get the suite number, but I'll manage to be there on time and under budget.
Even if my body refuses to stop shaking between now and then.
lily livered coward....