I could write about

The colossal thrill I got this morning when I called Chase to find out where the fuck my money is.

I could tell you about the annoying woman on the other end of the telephone. Her job is to sit there and listen to bitchy callers like me complain about the changes in policy now that Chase has taken over operations at WAMU. I hope they pay her well. And that they hold her paycheck for at least three days 'for her own protection.'

I could write about work. They called me yesterday afternoon to let me know that I would not be working today. I'm okay with that, it's the first day of summer program, and bound to be hectic and stressful. I hope I'll be working at least tomorrow, Wednesday and Thursday.

I already told them I can't work on Friday because I see the orthopedic doctor on Friday and "I don't know how long it will take." That's true, but I've refrained from mentioning that half my day will be taken up with test prep and testing for the 911 job. That happens at 9:45 Friday.

I'll be contacting the place where we bought our dryer, too. They're a locally owned company, and I've purchased all our major appliances from them. I keep going back because their prices are competitive, they give personalized service, and they're quick and professional when they deliver anything.

I've had some repair issues in the past, and they're helpful in troubleshooting over the phone, too. They order parts for me, and they're usually in the next day.

Which, coincidentally, is faster than our bank.

I could write about the clutter that's threatening to overtake me again, too. I've made a lot of progress, which makes me happy... but everything I get done serves to accentuate all the stuff that isn't done.

I could also mention that both kids have birthdays this week... Lyssa on Thursday and Matt a week from today.

16 and 22. Ack.

I'll be cake-baking and present-buying.
If the paycheck ever gets through the bank, that is.

Not that I'm obsessively pissed off or anything.