Friday morning. what better morning of the week. only one hard-working day to go, the weekend soothingly enticing us with honey-soaked pleasures into temptation.
it's nearly midnight. and what a day i had.
work...the usual. it's getting a bit tedius now, just ever so slightly...four weeks to go. i was only saved from total boredom by a meeting, which wasnt very exciting either, but...hm, different.
then from one job straight to the next. yay. walking there i nearly got totally lost right next to the city centre (well, i've only been living there for a year) arranging a gig for tomorrow. more work. at work (the bar) more boredom and finally my 'dinner break', which i used to get the car (at the other end of town), go home, get changed, get pissed off (more about that in a bit), get even more pissed off (yes, yes) and then have a bit of a cry. but i managed to do a good deed as well (at least one a day - karma you know), i lend some money to one of my collegues, cos he forgot his wallet. and all that within an hour.
now the pissed off bit. i got home, expecting a well-known courier company to have picked up 'the damn thing' (formely known as 'my new shiny laptop'). there was a note. from a different courier. curious. saying they couldnt deliver something. deliver? hm. i phoned the first well-known courier.
she: 'yeah, sorry, we were there, nobody was there though, arrange a new time.'
me: 'could you pick it up tomorrow (saturday)?'
she (now getting impatient): 'no, we only pick up mondays to fridays, 9-5. i told you that before'
me (now getting pissed off): 'i know you said that, but i am working mondays till fridays, 8-4 as i told you before. soo....'
she: 'when do you want it picking up then?'
me: ???
at that point i realised that i am not going to win this. the global courier that can deliver anywhere in the world before 9am is incapable of arranging a suitable picking-up time out of normal office-hours. well, i gave her the opportunity to come after 4.30 (hurrying home from work), but she said that she couldnt commit to a specific time!! i thought she must have been joking. 9-5. she didnt.
looks like i am going to have to resolve this problem by carrying the damn thing in its highly unsuitable handle-less box to work (incl. the 15 minute walk), leave it with the porter (if that's possible) and hope that somehow the courier manages to fulfil the task. on a good note. a new, hopefully functioning version of the damn thing has already been dispatched. maybe i end up with two...looking back i think the whole thing would have been easier, cheaper and quicker to just fly to bloody ireland and exchange the damn thing directly at the source. well, i still might have to do that, cos nothing actually has been resolved after spending every evening of this week trying to do just that.
turns out this whole affair is quite a learning experiene though. now, this is an honest question, because i really dont know the answer: how do people with a full-time nine-to-five job do anything? couriers, post, bank, council offices, town centres etc etc. they all have the same opening hours. you need to take a day off to send a bloody letter. does everybody just wait for the limited services on saturday? honestly, how do they do it? i've only been doing this for two weeks now and i feel like i dont have a life anymore (well, to be fair i have another job as well, and the odd gig, but still). this is crazy. everything is global, 24-hour access to everything, everywhere. the possibilities limitless. but in fact nothing really works.
now, you think that my day has already been full of crazy excitement, but hey, at this point it's only 8pm. after the phone call with the ever-so-helpful lady at the well-known courier, not !, i was just looking forward to a simple meal. like toast. so i go in the kitchen, get the butter, get the bread, put the bread into the toaster... _not_ put the bread into the frigging toaster, cos the frigging toaster has disappeared. well, not evaporated or something, but it was on the kitchen table with the cable wrapped all-around, and looking very much out of use. no toast for me then.
so, into the car, back into town, fighting for a parking space, running into a well-known chain of sandwich stores, order, open my bag....no wallet. haha, funny, no really. no wallet. apologising, starving, hurrying back to work, telling my collegue (the one i lent the money to earlier on) about the wallet thing, he laughing his head off, giving me back the money (having been reunited with his wallet by then), me running back out again to grab something to eat, stuffing it down (and i mean stuffing) and back behind the bar. where, you might guess, it was beyond boring.
so, now i am finally at home, in my bed, trying to figure out what the note about an attempted delivery could be (obviously i cant phone them to find out, cos they are only open 9-5) and thinking about karma. what goes round comes round. global.