PlazaJen: Passion Knit

So last night, late, I get a standard oh-so-sorry email from my lovely friends at Amazon going ON and ON and fucking ON about how their shipping and Prime and timing and grouping and delayed books and why all those things collude to keep me from my shit. And that my shit will still be arriving on September 7.

Blink, blink. I go off to bed, but my mind won't turn off. I go back to the computer. For I? I have a plan! I will cancel the one book that is dragging this thing along, and then the other books will be here, post-haste! Oh, but no. Suddenly my whole order is not changeable, as it was before I wrote my first letter. I give you one giant hairy eyeball and this word: CONSPIRACY? And do you think this stops me? HAHAHAHAHAHA.

no.

I write a letter to NkNk Haroova or whatever in hell their fake-but-pretending-to-be-real name was, and basically say, this is utter bullshit, now I can't even change my order, three weeks for all my books, on and on I go, and I tell them how they can make me happy. Get me my books by Friday, bitches. That's the only way to make me happy.

Fast forward to five minutes ago, when I received an email, telling me my Amazon order has shipped - and will be arriving - Friday! But it's being sent to work, and guess who has Friday afternoon off. Just guess. GUESS WHO. ME. But I have a friend here. I bet she'll help a homey out.

So, let's talk about the pendulum swing at lunch, on top of all this High! Seafaring! Bookworm! Drama! We went to a sandwich place, and it took for-fucking-ever. They were a wee bit short-staffed it seemed. And there was a crisis with the iced tea pot. CRISIS. I'm surprised Homeland Security didn't show up. But the entire accounting department from my former job was there, and it was kind of the same thing. Then, finally, we trundled off to Starbucks to use the free iced coffee coupon (today only) they sent one person at the office, who kindly sent it on to all of us. As I love to do, I checked out the sale bin & found a spiffy orange water bottle. Because I :need: more shit. Need it! Hey, it was way on sale. Why not. I order my coffee, and the cutest gay man in the metro area, the one who barely beat out the feller working next to him, tries to ring up my water bottle. And cannot. Cutey-patootie #2 tells him it's been on clearance too long, and therefore it's free, just give it to me. Zero it out. Free coffee, free water bottle. I tipped well.

And when we left Starbucks? I felt that perhaps, just maybe, a brass band would herald my coming and flowers would rain down from the air. I sense my takeover of the world is IMMINENT. And do you know what this means? It means the crazy bitch in front of me on Wornall this morning, the crazy smoking lady who couldn't find a happy consistent speed, the same one with "I LOVE PARROTS" on her license plate frame?

She will be sent to work in the shipping department of Amazon. And she will like it. (After all, I will allow her helper parrot to join her.) I'm nothing but benevolance in a brandy snifter.