Hours of Crazy

I raced home from the office like a madman in hopes of intercepting UPS before their scheduled delivery of the item I was expecting.

It was a pointless exercise, but I'm getting ahead of myself.

I got home and one of my friends called to invite me over to dinner at his place. His wife was cooking some kind of spicy dish that sounded like pure awesome.

Hopeful that UPS would arrive at a reasonable hour, I tentatively agreed. I started doing some maintenance on my laptop and updating some stuff on my desktop.

Another friend called me re: that same dinner with an offer to give me a ride. Knowing I'm hostage to UPS's schedule before I can even leave my apartment to conduct the balance of my errands, I turned down the offer for a lift and went back to my impatient waiting.

I hate waiting.

I started doing stuff around the apartment. Got another call from a friend checking on status.

A little harried and between tasks, I think I was a bit short with her as I explained I'm still waiting on UPS. Okie-dokie. Hopefully we'll all meet at 7 for dinner.

I'm getting this sinking suspicion that UPS isn't going to be cooperating.

Every time I hear a truck through the window on my busy street, I'm out the door, to the front of the building, and looking for UPS like a dog looking for the next meal.

Nada.

Ran into a neighbor. She's also waiting and she's juggling kid-obligations. I offer to sign for her package. I'm not going anywhere.

All this time, my allergies are kicking me up one side and down the other. Dunno what it is about today, but it's a bad day for the allergies for me and many of my co-workers.

Tick-tock-tick-tock.

I finally call my buddy and say I'm not making it to dinner. I'm too harried over goddamn UPS and I don't say it, but my allergies are making me feel kind of light-headed and sleepy.

This is my only free evening for the week, so I'm already iffy on doing anything... and I'm still waiting on UPS.

It's close to 6:30 when the truck pulls up. I practically mug the driver. I sign for my package and he lets me sign for my neighbor's. Good times. I check the package contents. All are well. Life is good.

Out the door I dash. I get a card I need for a special occasion later this week. I couldn't find one at the now-craptacular Borders near me that was worth a sh*t, so I had to do local shopping near my place.

Okay, got that. Groceries now. A quick dash through the store. Got the basics. I'm up the steps to my apartment when I realize I forgot some things.

Sh*t.

I put away what I have and I'm out the door again for what I forgot. This time I have to hit a different store.

I find everything I need. I get in the self-check line. For a change, there's four operational self-check stations. They've all got morons who can't figure out how to ring up their own goddamn groceries... or so I think at the moment.

I finally get up to a station. I ring up all my stuff like a madman. The damn station freezes and thinks I've got unexpected items. I look around for a clerk to fix this goddamn thing.

Of course there's nobody around to help.

I'm not a patient fellow under the best of circumstances. At this point, my allergies are giving me a headache, I'm feeling harried, and I'm tired.

Not the best of circumstances.

Finally someone appears. They press a button. Damn station starts working again. A quick press of buttons and my money gets processed. I've got my damn stuff and I'm out the door.

The time? A little after 7.

With my options in front of me, I'm doing exactly what's best. I'm going to bed. Bleah.