Saruwatari Ayumi (junglemonkee) wrote,
Saruwatari Ayumi

For F***'s Sake, This Isn't Rocket Science!

Moving is stressful. We all know that. I'm stressed. The house isn't packed, the movers are due tomorrow and I'm just sitting here humming my mantra "don'tcryinpublicdon'tcryinpublic." Last night I get home at 7:00 p.m. to a message on my machine from the company who's supposed to be dropping off a dumpster at my house in the morning. Saying that if I don't call them by close of business, no dumpster.

Too late.

I muttered to myself about what kind of pathetic system waits until the very last second to call you up and tell you that they're not going to be able to perform a service you've contracted. I called them many very unflattering names that presumed certain things about their parents and their hobbies.

So, I came in this morning and called them first thing. It turns out that they had called last Thursday to say that there was a problem with my credit card (I had miswritten the expiration date - my bad) and they had talked to Peaches who told them that I wasn't there, that she wasn't allowed to give out my number, and that she wasn't allowed to call me. And the kid didn't take a message. Now, before you harangue me for not letting my home-alone kid contact me in any way, let me just say that in this week while she was home alone she had called me an average of three times an hour every day, derailing my process and keeping me from getting my work done. I bawled her out and told her to quit calling me. And in her beautiful little 12-year-old mind, she took me at my literal word.

Got the credit card thing straightened out and the nice lady had the dumpster delivered. Except for glitch #2. Assuming that we were NOT going to get the delivery, we left the truck at home in the spot where the dumpster should have gone. The dumpster people called me again and said "Do you have a truck? Because we left the dumpster and your neighbor yelled at our driver to move it and called our office." I told them I'd go back and move the truck and they said that they'd move the dumpster.

So I went BACK HOME and moved the truck down the street a little. I got back to work and worked for more than six hours in peace and quiet, thinking that all was taken care of. But no. Apparently the driver went back and was completely confused about where the dumpster should have gone, despite the fact that he had my address and a physical description of the house. And when my neighbor got home, she called the dumpster people again and was apparently very abusive.

I can hardly wait to be the fuck outta here.

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