I’ve been busy looking for microbursts buried in different journal entries. I want to dust them off and give them their own spotlight posts.
That Dyson AP is finally out of my life. Since I couldn’t find a box to drop it in, I took the Purolator ladies’ advice and made my own. And while I was working on wrapping that piece of shit, I got angry again!
If you can send boxes for exchanges, why can’t you send for returns – you’re getting your packaging back either way. You fucks! Making my life hell!
If only ordinary citizens could send companies an invoice for their time – from second and subsequent calls to resolve the same issue – PLUS any related expenses. I bet they’d put more thought into their products and the customer experience then. Douches!
I promise to never buy anything that doesn’t come in a standard-sized box. Let’s see how long it takes to get my money back.
I get to Purolator with the two boxes because a “free” filter was included with the purchase; she scans the waybills. BEEP! NOT-BEEP!
“You can’t use one waybill for two packages.”
“They only sent one.”
“Are you sure? Double-check, otherwise, you have to buy one.”
I check and show her.
“I’ll buy it. I want to get this thing outta my life.”
“Why don’t you call them and request a second one – they should have sent it anyway.”
Those incompetent fucks! OMG, they told me I have to send back the filter – You’re telling me they didn’t know to send two!!! I’d rather hang by my neck till I’m dead than talk to any of them again! The thought of calling filled me with hateful rage! The lady must have read my thoughts. Or she saw it on my face.
“I’m gonna do my one good deed for today.” She turned, took off to the back room and reappeared with a massive plastic wrap roll and tape.
She puts the filter box on top of my makeshift one, “Hold this!” I keep the boxes together as she expertly wraps them. Going around and ducking under my arm. Boss! Did I put on deodorant?
“Your receipt. If anything happens from here, it’s not your problem.”
I thanked her profusely, then skipped into the sunset … well, technically, no. It was only 2:00 pm.
Dre and I walked over to Galleria – finally got the salmon I’d been craving. Also picked up oxtail, a few different hotpot slices of meat and some Korean side dishes.
On the way out, I saw this beautiful set of cherry blossom dishes.
“These are pretty!”
Dryly the boy says, “They’re going to break.”
“I know. If I get them, I’d have to move out.” If only I was rich enough!
We proceed to the cashier.
At home, I seasoned and portioned off everything. Reminiscent of the days I cooked often, back in 2020 abouts. Dre was super helpful throughout the day. Even in getting me out of the house! That’s a surprise! From someone who rarely leaves his bedroom. I love shopping at Galleria. I also enjoy shopping at Metro.
Oh, and a remarkable find – brown sweet rice. It’s just ok. Not sticky at all
I’ve been trying to write a French poem. Any French poem! But I find the instruction complicated. So far, they all have rhyming schemes AND syllable counts per line. I can only do one thing at a time. Grrrrr!
A few years back, I cooked bone marrow – Dre loved it; everyone else was meh. Including me. He decided he wanted to have it again, so we picked up a pack of beef bones from Galleria. They’re soaking in salt water, in a container, in the fridge.
I think my mom visited me last night while I was in bed – I could have been dreaming, but it felt real.
FYI – I’m ready for another epic pandemic. To the Uber Eats driver, can you just leave my food at the door, as you did before? For me, that is a perfect handoff!
Oh! Did you see? Mcdonald’s is making adult happy meals!
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