It’s been a typical Annette day. [This was actually written yesterday.] (Or not-so-typical, as these days don’t seem to happen as much anymore.)
Work was good. I had a 3 1/2 hour meeting about nothing, my projects, biking through France, pedometers, and other nonsense. My superiors seem to be very happy with the work I’ve been doing so far. That’s good.
And then I came home.
Okay, so you have to understand some background on this. My cell phone started dying the day I got it from Sprint a year ago. It would randomly turn itself off, stop receiving calls, et cetera, et cetera. So I finally had enough and had Charlie get in contact with Derek for me (aka – super Sprint man) to see if he could hook me up with a new phone. He put me in contact with a new program they have called Employees Helping Customers (imagine that…), and I’ve been in communication with Judy there ever since. Keep in mind through all this that Judy and I keep about the same work hours, and I typically don’t answer my phone when I’m working, so we’re playing phone tag throughout this whole escapade.
That was about two months ago. After telling Judy my situation, she gave me $150 towards a new phone. Plus, after I whined, she gave me free mobile to mobile calling. Good, done. I just have to go to a Sprint store and get a new phone.
No. Sprint’s going through some database restructuring and so on and so forth, so Judy calls back and says I need to order the phone through her instead. I do, and a week later, my phone arrives. Except that it’s not the phone that I ordered. It is, in fact, the exact same model that I already have. So I call Judy back. “Judy… you guys sent me the wrong phone.” So I make sure she has the right address in Columbia, and she sends out another one. And it goes to Virginia. Nice. I have my mom mail the phone to me, and tell Judy she needs to give me some sort of credit for all the nonsense, plus for the shipping costs. She eventually gives me a $90 credit, and yesterday my phone arrived from my mom. Good.
Then I plugged it in to charge it. It beeped every minute it was charging, for no apparent reason. Charlie has the same phone (except in silver; mine is red — aww, aren’t we cute), and his phone doesn’t do that. Oh well, maybe it’ll go away after it’s fully charged for the first time.
So I call Sprint to activate my new phone. It’s 5:30 on a weekday, so I wait on hold for 20 minutes. Finally I get through, tell the girl my number, and she asks if I have another phone I can call her from. What? You have to call from a different phone to activate your phone. So I have to own two phones to activate my phone? Yes. Charlie is still at the office working on the Living Reflections book, so I don’t have access to another phone. And you can’t just call me on my old phone? No, because we have to activate your new phone.
Agh. So after waiting 20 minutes to talk to a human being, I have to hang up.
I go back to trying to prepare dinner for myself and my wonderful love. I’m going to make mashed sweet potatoes, and it’s going to be wonderful. Except that the kitchen is a mess, there’s no clean space to work in, Charlie’s roommate keeps messing up the kitchen after we clean it, there’s a fruitfly, there’s a housefly, and WHY WON’T THIS KNIFE CUT SWEET POTATOES?!
Charlie gets home. He gives me a hug and tells me sweet things. Then he sets out to clean the kitchen and call Sprint. Sprint is overloaded, so he gives up and goes back to cleaning. I’m still struggling with the sweet potatoes. Charlie apparently knows me well (or something), because a few minutes later he asks, “What are you making?” “It’s going to be mashed sweet potatoes.” “And now that you’re partway into it, is that still what you want to make?” “NO!”
“Okay, then why don’t we make something else? Here, let’s make pasta. I’ll make it.” Flies are landing on my sweet potatoes. “BABY, KILL THEM!” “Oooookay, let’s put those away.” We don’t have a big container to put them in, so let’s just cover them in plastic wrap. I pull down the plastic wrap from the top shelf, and manage to knock over a whole stack of plastic containers which come crashing down over my head, bouncing off the stove, counters, and floor. I cry.
Charlie leads me by the hand and puts me in bed. He pours me a glass of wine, brings me my laptop, and tells me to stay put. He cleans the kitchen, table, makes dinner, and afterwards takes me out for ice cream.
That, boys and girls, is the most wonderful man in the world. Yep, he passed the test. He’s a keeper.