Welcome to Stress Week

It's official: I am destined to spend the week in a state of constant irritation, frustration or out-and-out rage. To list all the items I am not handling very well would produce a very long and tedious entry, and sometimes it’s easier (less boring?) to go piece by piece.

So here’s something: I hate the telephone. I rarely answer it (and if you make my Always-Answer list you’re either chock full of blackmail-worthy secrets, or sleeping with me), and I’ve come close to hyper-ventilating when it’s time to order pizza (question: when ISN’T it time to order pizza?). I have a love/hate relationship with my cell phone- if it weren’t for these wild and crazy Texas drivers, I wouldn’t feel the need to carry one (although the ability to do the whole “hey, it’s me again. Okay, now I’m in the ice cream aisle. Cookies ‘n’ Cream or Chunky Monkey?” is awfully convenient). I speak to my mother on average once a week (because if I do not she will make me miserable on average every time she can catch me, for the rest of my life), Maki once every other week (we’re so Busy and Important these days we have a standing call schedule, la dee da) and Biff about once a week. As it happens, these are not quick, just-checking-in calls. If Biff and Maki would just move here already (or, you know, send a damn email from time to time) we could avoid these in-depth conversations. And my mother, well, she just has no idea how to end a conversation (you should have seen her every Sunday of my childhood. This woman makes Not Leaving Church a championship sport. She’d round everyone up like WE were keeping HER, and then we would stand around for days praying to the sweet baby Jesus for her to FUCKING WRAP IT UP ALREADY!)

So now that we’re all up to speed on my anti-talking-on-the-phone thing, you can imagine how quickly I went into convulsions upon opening the cell phone bill and discovering that the good people at Cingular were demanding nearly $400.

How on earth did I rack up over four times the minutes last month? Oh, wait, last month was the first month in almost a year of having this devil contract with Cingular that I’ve actually been able to have a conversation without the call being dropped several times. All those times of “Hi, I’m back, yep, that was my phone disconnecting again” were actually saving me money. One of the pirates at Cingular explained to Monk that if we make a call a minute before our Night rates kick in, then we’re charged Day minutes for the duration of the call. Huh. You’d think they can’t do that, it must be illegal or something, but no, baby! This is America! We can take advantage of whomever we want because it’s a free country and people don’t read the fine print before they sign their money and souls away for two or three years at a time! Head hurts. Must go.

0 comment:

Post a Comment

<< Home