My day today has been a bit...well, odd. It started off great. Like GREAT, great. We were up and around and running errands and out of town by nine. We got to our first stop of the day and WHOOSH--in and out and on to the next task. And ZIP! Through the next thing and on to the next stop on our to do list. And ZING! Like lightning we flashed through the store and back onto the road...
and then everything started unravelling. There was a dog on the side of the road, and I couldn't stop for him. It was a Boxer with a collar fitted with one of those electric-fence-shocker-box-thingies. It killed me to pass him. SLAYED me. I have no doubt I'll be feeling guilty, and hoping the best for that doggie long after his natural life has been and gone. I hate that I didn't stop--schedule be damned, I should've. But I didn't. Instead we buzzed along to the social security office. Or we tried to buzz along, anyway.
We used Baxter's Navigation system for the first time. I can tell you now, I'm not very impressed with the lady voice we've taken to calling "Mrs. Baxter." First of all, the address we had was the OLD address. However, Mrs. Baxter directed us to a house. Just a house. In the middle of a residential neighborhood. Clearly NOT the social security administration. In fact, it wasn't even the address we'd entered. We found the wrong/old address by ourselves. Then we snatched our phones (thank goodness for 3G!) and started searching for the new/correct address. Finally found, we entered that into Mrs. Baxter's map. Guess what? She led us to another house. In the middle of another residential neighborhood. Stupid lady! Luckily Nearly Husband and I are fairly clever (sometimes...) and we managed to find it for ourselves.
It was pretty nearly empty. "Your wait time should be approximately 14 minutes." It was significantly quicker than 14 minutes. And the woman... the infuriating woman behind the horrible counter said, "Oh, well, if you'd waited until tomorrow we could have had it to you in two weeks, but since you're not in the system yet it'll be two to six weeks." SIX WEEKS?! Because we came ON THE DAY WE WERE TOLD WE COULD COME?! WHA?!
Aghast. Seriously. I was raging. Nearly Husband was very calm, perhaps a bit disappointed and frustrated, but he didn't even turn colors. Unlike me. I checked the mirror and I was a pretty bright shade of pink. (you horrible woman. you couldn't have offered to let us come back tomorrow, or maybe hold on to his paperwork and file it tomorrow? you had to give us the SIX WEEKS line? I have nothing nice to say about you. DIRTY WORDS.) So we took Baxter to the Jeep dealership for his first ever oil change. *sigh* They grow up so fast, don't they?
I'd been told there would be a loaner vehicle to get around in while the car was being serviced. And there was...kinda. It was a 1996 Dodge Stratus, gold, with gold and beige interior. It... um... well, uh... I hated it. Nearly Husband hated it. It took thirty minutes to find a place to eat lunch because the Gold Bandit could barely budge itself. I feel like the service department guys keep it solely because they have a bet going as to how many people see it and decide they'll just sit in the dealership, thanks. Oh...*shudder* Gross. "Honey, I think something may have died in the back," says Nearly. "Just don't look...or breathe if you can help it." "That's not helpful, Bug."
But, you know what? I've never been more grateful to sit in my beautiful, shiny, black, clean, beast of a vehicle. He was WARM! And CLEAN! And DIDN'T SMELL OF DECAY! I love you Baxter Black!
And, for your entertainment:
You're welcome!
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