Comcast is screwing me. And they know they can screw me, stupid CABLE MONOPOLY.
I still don’t have Internet connection (or TV or phone). It’s practically like living in the 40′s with only the radio to keep me company. If you’re wondering how I’m posting now, it’s because I’m STEALING my neighbor’s Internet connection. Hats off to my new neighbors!
So anyway, I’m just checking in to say I miss you! Did you lose weight?! Wow you ALL look SO pretty.
How about a quick story about the realtor whose head I ate?
Okay. Here’s the thing. We found out the day before closing that we were responsible for purchasing and installing a mailbox. This, despite our attempt to find out about the who’s and why’s of mailbox installation for the previous two weeks. And not just any old mailbox, NO! The mailbox approved by our homeowner’s association that has to be ordered from a specific person who was ON VACATION. I was INCREDIBLY irritated to find out this information the day before closing AND! the day I had our mail forwarded to the new address.
GAH! I’m getting mad just writing this.
Lest you think that I’m just a whiny, spoiled housewife who needs a real problem, let me ‘splain. I feel that the post office is a place designed by the devil himself to make mommies of small children feel like hurling themselves into oncoming mail trucks. It’s nearly impossible to get inside the post office carrying two small kids and your packages and go through two sets of doors then wait in line FOREVER and a day then fumble to pay, while holding two small kids then get back outside attempting to go through two sets of doors AGAIN while holding two small children.
I wasn’t exactly relishing in the idea of going to the post office everyday to retrieve my mail. If you couldn’t tell.
So at the closing when the builder’s realtor said (in a very put-off, snotty tone), “I don’t see what the big deal is, you can just go to the post office and pick up your mail,” I thought I was going to hurt her. She ended her sentence with a slight purse of the lips that I knew was code for, ”YOU STUPID IDIOT.”
That’s when I chewed off her head and spit it out, then stomped on it.
Okay, so that really wasn’t a quick story, but BOY do I feel BETTER.
See you soon, whether via stolen Internet access or whether the Comcast monopoly pulls their heads outta their fannies and gets me my MTV. I WANT MY MTV.