The events of today have just about killed me. I am in such a state that I don’t know what to do with myself, so I’m going to rage blog and hope that by the time I’m done, I will no longer feel the need to destroy something.
My husband and I cleaned out our basement a week ago and decided to sell a bunch of things that we no longer needed, i.e. DVD player, old speakers, other components, etc. He put them on eBay and they sold. His part was done. My nightmare was just beginning.
Today was the day I had to send out six different boxes full of stuff. Some of the components needed brand new boxes, some had been stored in the original boxes but needed to be wrapped up in plain brown paper before they were mailed, others needed to be bubble wrapped and sealed up, you get the idea.
My day began bright and early at 9 am at Target, where I bought packing tape rolls, bubble wrap, plain brown paper for mailing, among some other things. Target didn’t have a big enough box for one of the items, so I hit the UPS store and spent even more money.
Two of the six packages were in my car. I went to the post office and mailed them. The third component we were selling was still in my car, unboxed and un-bubble-wrapped; I didn’t want to go home, box it all up, and go back to the post office, so I tried to tape up the new GIANT box and pack up the component in the back seat of my car. That didn’t work out too well. There wasn’t enough room. So after throwing out a few f-bombs, I went inside the post office and got it all done in there. Fine.
After lunch I wrapped up and boxed the other three items. It took FOREVER. I’m not even exaggerating. I had to shove the boxes full of bubble wrap, wrap them up with plain brown paper, cut down boxes to fit around the items more securely, I can’t even tell you how annoying this was. One hour later, I was done.
I had to get the boxes into the car. Did I mention they were like 50 lbs each? I pushed and I pulled and I managed to get them all in my trunk even though by this point my back was screaming at me and asking me WTF I thought I was doing lifting all this crap by myself.
I arrived at the post office. I went inside to ask for a cart. They provided one. I wheeled it out to my car, with some difficulty since the cart was at least 100 years old, and started to load the three giant boxes inside it. They wouldn’t all fit securely, but I was NOT making another trip for this, so I made it work. I had to wheel the stupid cart all the way to the side of the building where the sidewalk ramp was. I got stuck numerous of times. I ran over my foot with the wheel twice. One of the packages started to fall and I caught it in midair. I was swearing very loudly. The cart wheel got caught three times in sidewalk cracks and it almost killed me.
I finally got up to the door and this guy, who was talking on his phone via an earpiece, walked into the building a few feet ahead of me. He let the door close behind him. Yes, THIS MOTHERF*CKER DID NOT HOLD THE DOOR FOR ME. I was so enraged that I literally screamed out, “THANKS, DUDE!” sarcastically and waved at him.
A nice elderly lady witnessed the whole thing. I told her how rude the man was. She held open the door for me. She was nice.
I went to wait in line inside behind rude dude and texted my husband. I wrote things like, “I am seriously about to cry and then murder this asshole who slammed the door in my face,” as well as, “This is my second trip to the post office and I will need corrective surgery on my back when this is all said and done and I hope that YOU’RE HAPPY.”
And then rude guy gets off his phone call and has the AUDACITY to turn to me and say, “I was wondering how you were going to get all those boxes in here.”
WHAT. THE. F*CK.
I turned to him, flexed my bicep, and said, “I DID IT WITH OLD-FASHIONED MUSCLE.” Then I pounded his face.
No, I didn’t punch him, but I wanted to.
Then he thought it was a good idea to continue the conversation and said, “You wouldn’t have wanted me to help you anyway. You don’t want me near you.”
Again, I refrained from breaking his nose. I gritted my teeth and asked, “Why is that?” He proceeded to tell me that he’s had the flu, has lost 15 lbs., had a flu shot, but got sick from traveling on airplanes. Like I was interested in his life story.
At this point, I’m done. I can’t even with him. He goes up to the counter, does his business, and then makes a point of saying goodbye to me before he walks out the door. I’m not sure what part of my body language, attitude, or spoken words encouraged him into thinking we had some kind of friendly relationship, but apparently that’s what he got from me.
I think that’s about it. I hope the rest of the day is better. I think I’ll go fill a bathtub full of ice cubes and get this swelling in my back to go down.