A Day Late

This time last night, I was on the phone with the Computer Owner and she was frustrated in the extreme. We’d made the appointment for me to help her with her Facebook accounts and the email problem. Neither one was addressed because she couldn’t get online. I tried walking her through various things but nothing worked. It was almost an hour and a half before she gave up saying she was ready to throw her laptop across the room. Later, I texted her yet another something to try but I don’t know if she did it.

Yesterday was a beautiful day. I needed some things from town but I almost talked myself out of going. I’d been working on the lessons (of course) and was getting tired of sitting and staring at the computer screen. I knew more wintry weather was predicted so I peeled myself off the chair and got ready to go.

Bi-Lo was my first stop. The young girl checking me out failed to give me bag credit. When I called her on it, she looked horrified. That was a whole nickel and I told her to forget it. She breathed a great sigh of relief.

It had been weeks and weeks since I’d bought gas so I filled up. I managed to squeeze 8.5 gallons into the tank. My warming the car up on several occasions cut my mileage to 32 mpg. Still not too bad for mountain driving.

The Dollar Tree was next. I like to buy my facial tissue there. It’s a lot cheaper than Walmart and right on the way. I could let myself get distracted and spend a lot of time looking but I know where the tissue is so I zone in and don’t stop, much, on the way.

I didn’t spend a lot of time in Walmart. I had a list and I stuck to it better than usual. I’d looked up the ads for the other stores and printed off some coupons. The cashier had a hard time with one of the coupons and called a supervisor over to help him. She was able to scan it. He said, “I hate it when she does that.”

It was so warm and the sun was shining so brightly that I had to turn the a/c on in the car coming home.

I’d talked to my cousin earlier. She’d tried texting me but it never came through. Later, I wondered if she’d used my MagicJack number or Google Voice. I didn’t think to ask her when she called today.

After I got off the phone with the Computer Owner, it took almost an hour to get ready for bed.

Twinkle was at my door this morning. When she meows now, it isn’t so much, “I’m lonesome!” as it is, “I’m out of food! Come feed me!” That’s music to my ears. I’d much rather spend money on food than vet visits.

My supply of Essential GSH had come just in time. I had rinsed out the last bottle this morning. I was under the impression that I could pick it up at 1 CST. Bad impression. I had to wait for almost an hour. It was after 3 EST when I got back home.

According to my cousin, there were a couple of packages for me in their mailbox. I knew what one was but I had no idea what the other one could be. That’s probably because it had to be sent to me by mistake.

Surprise!

I called my cousin and she said she was surprised to see it, too. She knows I don’t have a turntable. She had no idea who Bob Marley was (which made me feel very old). She said maybe someone sent it to me and reminded me about the microwave. I know of no one on Planet Earth who would want to send me a Bob Marley album. I’m more of a James Galway or Mannheim Steamroller person.

It came from Amazon so I sat down and contacted them. I got a nice reply from Nimmi J with instructions on what information to give him/her so the source could be traced. S/he also mentioned it could be a gift but there was no packing slip. The plastic was the only packaging and the corners of the cardboard cover are bent and creased. The sleeve inside is ripped. It’s in pretty bad shape if it’s supposed to be a collectible.

Maybe I’ll hear something in a day or two to solve this mystery. Nimmi J is to send me a return label at any rate.

It’s going on 10 o’clock and I’m tired. I still have to take my last dose of NAC, feed Twinkle, start the distiller, clean and fill the vaporizer, then get myself ready for a long winter’s nap. Trouble is, when I drink 16 ozzies of water this late, it’s an interrupted one.

No comments yet.

Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.