Jethro at the P.O.
I am in the midst of changing insurance carriers. My COBRA finally ran out, but at just the right time--it's open enrollment for insurance through the bookstore. Good. And, even better, it's half as much as COBRA (go figure!) and gets taken out of my paycheck, so that's one less check I have to write each month.
So. I bring the paperwork to work this morning, thinking the store had to mail it in. No, I could do that. Okay, fine. (I still had a question about my start date--did they consider it the date I started at the store, or the date I became part-time status as opposed to holiday help? It was *the* day I started, December 11, 1997.)
After work I went to my local post office, the one that's down the street from my house. I could have parked at home and walked, but my feet were tremendously sore today--as in, I could barely stand at the end of my six-hour shift. Not good. Stupid thick socks and new insoles in my boots. (Yes, I should have known better.)
So, I get to the post office. I made a note to request registered mail, as that's what the store recommended. Might I add that March 3rd is the date to have the forms in? Whoops. I am a procrastinator extraordinaire. I couldn't remember if the forms had to be in Ann Arbor on the third, or just postmarked, but I knew tomorrow was the big day. The guy at the post office was like, why would they request registered mail? That doesn't guarantee that it'll get there tomorrow. He was also confused that they wanted it sent registered, but included a postage-paid envelope. By now my head was spinning. Anyway, he talked me into Express Mail--I can track the mail online, and it's guaranteed to be there by noon tomorrow--that was *gasp* $6.00 MORE than registered mail. He's good, I tell you. (Registered mail, by the way, starts at $7.50.) Ugh. And I had decided to get stamps, too, so that I wouldn't feel guilty in using a credit card to pay for this (ha, ha, I'm funny)...then he was out of the Disney ones I wanted, so I got the Chinese New Years ones, except that there's two dozen stamps instead of just 20 (two each per animal...twelve animals), so I spent $22 on something where, if I'd done it the week before, would have been free. Free, I tell you.
*sigh*
More fun was to be had just in trying to leave. Now, I live in the suburbs, but we're perched on the edge of urbanity. Not two miles west of here there's farmland. This means rednecks, and not the good kind. The parking lot of the post office is interesting. The P.O. is just off a main north/south road. A short distance from said road is the main parking lot entrance. When you go into the lot, you can either go straight to the full lot, or make a right turn into a little driveway. The little driveway has mailboxes so you can drop stuff off without leaving your car. Because I live east of the P.O., it's much easier to make a left turn from the driveway than from the lot entrance/exit. I wait for cars to enter the lot, then pull into the driveway between two other vehicles.
The first, an SUV, does its thing. The driver sticks his arm out, puts the mail in the correct box, and drives away. The second, a pickup, pulls up. Parks. Manually rolls down the window...slowly. (I know it's chilly out, but would it kill you to roll the window down *before* you get to the box, especially when there's someone behind you? By now there was a car behind me.) However, Jethro in the pickup didn't put his mail in the box...he commenced filling out the envelope. Dude. Hello. Don't you do that *before* you go to the post office? Finally he finishes and puts his stuff in the Express box. Now, I think, I can finally get home. Oh, no. Jethro must have taken care with his envelope--he took a minute to fill out the form, y'know--so he had to take equal care when making a right-hand turn. Right-hand. Not left. No crossing of traffic. There *was* no traffic. None. I'm the type of person who looks both ways twice before pulling into traffic, but even I would have stopped and then turned right away. But no. Jethro waited a while before turning. Could he tell I was exasperated? Was he just toying with me? Or is he that much of an idiot? Regardless, he finally turned so that I could make my left-hand turn. There still wasn't any traffic, so I zoomed out of there. Ugh.
Have I mentioned that I hate people?
So. I bring the paperwork to work this morning, thinking the store had to mail it in. No, I could do that. Okay, fine. (I still had a question about my start date--did they consider it the date I started at the store, or the date I became part-time status as opposed to holiday help? It was *the* day I started, December 11, 1997.)
After work I went to my local post office, the one that's down the street from my house. I could have parked at home and walked, but my feet were tremendously sore today--as in, I could barely stand at the end of my six-hour shift. Not good. Stupid thick socks and new insoles in my boots. (Yes, I should have known better.)
So, I get to the post office. I made a note to request registered mail, as that's what the store recommended. Might I add that March 3rd is the date to have the forms in? Whoops. I am a procrastinator extraordinaire. I couldn't remember if the forms had to be in Ann Arbor on the third, or just postmarked, but I knew tomorrow was the big day. The guy at the post office was like, why would they request registered mail? That doesn't guarantee that it'll get there tomorrow. He was also confused that they wanted it sent registered, but included a postage-paid envelope. By now my head was spinning. Anyway, he talked me into Express Mail--I can track the mail online, and it's guaranteed to be there by noon tomorrow--that was *gasp* $6.00 MORE than registered mail. He's good, I tell you. (Registered mail, by the way, starts at $7.50.) Ugh. And I had decided to get stamps, too, so that I wouldn't feel guilty in using a credit card to pay for this (ha, ha, I'm funny)...then he was out of the Disney ones I wanted, so I got the Chinese New Years ones, except that there's two dozen stamps instead of just 20 (two each per animal...twelve animals), so I spent $22 on something where, if I'd done it the week before, would have been free. Free, I tell you.
*sigh*
More fun was to be had just in trying to leave. Now, I live in the suburbs, but we're perched on the edge of urbanity. Not two miles west of here there's farmland. This means rednecks, and not the good kind. The parking lot of the post office is interesting. The P.O. is just off a main north/south road. A short distance from said road is the main parking lot entrance. When you go into the lot, you can either go straight to the full lot, or make a right turn into a little driveway. The little driveway has mailboxes so you can drop stuff off without leaving your car. Because I live east of the P.O., it's much easier to make a left turn from the driveway than from the lot entrance/exit. I wait for cars to enter the lot, then pull into the driveway between two other vehicles.
The first, an SUV, does its thing. The driver sticks his arm out, puts the mail in the correct box, and drives away. The second, a pickup, pulls up. Parks. Manually rolls down the window...slowly. (I know it's chilly out, but would it kill you to roll the window down *before* you get to the box, especially when there's someone behind you? By now there was a car behind me.) However, Jethro in the pickup didn't put his mail in the box...he commenced filling out the envelope. Dude. Hello. Don't you do that *before* you go to the post office? Finally he finishes and puts his stuff in the Express box. Now, I think, I can finally get home. Oh, no. Jethro must have taken care with his envelope--he took a minute to fill out the form, y'know--so he had to take equal care when making a right-hand turn. Right-hand. Not left. No crossing of traffic. There *was* no traffic. None. I'm the type of person who looks both ways twice before pulling into traffic, but even I would have stopped and then turned right away. But no. Jethro waited a while before turning. Could he tell I was exasperated? Was he just toying with me? Or is he that much of an idiot? Regardless, he finally turned so that I could make my left-hand turn. There still wasn't any traffic, so I zoomed out of there. Ugh.
Have I mentioned that I hate people?