I finally got service restored at 8 p.m., Monday night. This is after a scathing phone call to NewWave Communications shortly after 5 p.m. from the infamous Wally World phone. And while I was waiting, on hold, did someone else come up to use it? Trust me. The scathing phone call had nothing to do with it or the scathing letter I was in the midst of composing when service was finally restored. (Still sending the letter; just have to revise it a little.)
Needless to say, last night was a very bad one with very little sleep. I heard sounds I probably would not have heard. Know someone or something was under the house because you could hear the noises (clank) at the front, under my bed, in the back. I'm ever so thankful to Dee and Walter for adjusting the lights but I'm not ashamed to say it. I was scared. No way to call for help. And, I'm definitely not trying to go to the car. For nothing. There's a country song by Trace Adkins, "Every Light in the House is On," which describes Serendipity perfectly. The only lights not on were the living and dining room. And I have to go to work. Dozed off around 5 a.m., up at 8.
Around 8 p.m., I happened to see flashing lights outside and went to investigate. It is a crew from NewWave. "Are we going to get service restored tonight?" "Are you the lady from DC?" "Yes." "Do You Remember Me?" It's Brandon, the same young man who installed the cable and internet service when my brother was here. He asked about you, JB. Said to tell you "hi."
I am just tickled pink. I have television. The game is just coming on. I have my computer, the Internet. Boy Howdy. AND, I have a working telephone. SF and I must have been calling each other at the same time. Was I glad to talk to him. You're in my prayers, tomorrow.
Now to the real topic of this discussion which is: Why are my people so hard on each other? For no good reason? Worked this weekend with minimal supervision. The way I like it. And, I WORKED. No play time at Wally World. Bought insoles for my sneaks, if that will give you any indication of the beating my feet are taking. As I dressed for work this a.m. (still no service), I received a message. "You know that T.T. is going to have a problem with what you did. You will have overlooked something or did something to her disliking. She will have combed the aisles looking for mistakes as soon as she hit the door." I took an extra pain killer because I knew I would be gritting my teeth, hard. Sure enough. Girlfriend had a litany of things wrong from items not being stacked in the bins in the order in which she had placed them originally, to not pulling items that should have been put out (where they had been hidden, I'll never know), to putting out things that shouldn't have been put out until November. Are you ready for the question? How would I know what doesn't go out before November unless I'm told? My instructions were to put out any freight that came in and what didn't fit, to put in the bins. (Cause you know I asked before she left on Friday.) Told to redo the bins the way she had them. Placed items on an empty shelf. Don't want anything on this shelf. Okaaay.
Don't get me wrong, boys and girls, I know the drill. Been there. Done that. See it for what it is worth. Very little friendliness taking place among those who speak of going to Bible Class, yada yada. Who DO you think you are? The flash for TT is that Wally World is not my end-all, be-all. I don't want to take her place. I don't aspire to a Wally World career (I've been here 20 years,25 years, etc.) Which doesn't mean that I may not be there for the duration but right now? I just want paychecks to tide me over until I can do better and allow me to make repairs on my house. Can't we all just get along?
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