Wednesday, July 6, 2011

I'll take panic attack with a side of heart palpitations please.

Hear ye! Hear ye! Readers of my blog, let me tell you about the debacle that was my morning.

After having a generally relaxing evening (save for an argument with my mother - which is pretty typical when we are in the kitchen together at any time, no matter what we're doing). In fact, you know what, let me paint you a picture of what our argument was like last night. I'm not saying that it was a fight really, but I was definitely irritated with my mom more than baseline. She is a technological retard. This should be enough explanation, but my dad humors her, which makes it worse. I feel bad for the customer service people at T-Mobile. I don't know why she has a smart phone. They're supposed to be used friendly - yet my mother blames her phone for EVERYTHING.

"Oh, I didn't answer your 8 calls and 5 texts because I couldn't hear my phone" - what this really means is "I don't know how to use pockets, or understand what a cell phone is for, so I left it in another room somewhere."

Or via text: "LKnenal Hoalsk" "What?" *ring ring* "My swipe is not working, it keeps typing random words"- what this really means is "I'm an idiot when in comes to technology with clumsy fingers that doesn't know how to work simple applications on my phone."

I swear this woman is all about the blame game. So anyway, I was frustrated with her because while she was wasting Customer Service's time, I was trying to explain to her what they were saying about either saving all of the contacts from her old phone onto her SIM card, or linking her phone to her e-mail so that she can link her new phone and all of the old data would be restored.

Let me tell you, it was like talking to a wall - or someone in a coma. It might be sinking in, but cannot be translated into actual function. Also, throw in the fact that we were in the kitchen. Although we were not discussing food at all or fighting over space, that room is the MOST CONTEMPTUOUS. Seriously, whenever we are in there together a fight will ensue - it makes no sense, but that's our relationship.

Fast forward to this morning. I got up early because I've decided to go to the chiropractor before work so as not to intrude on any afternoon plans. I was at the train station by 7:30am, gym bag and purse in tow. I got on the train. Went to close my purse and immediately freaked out. I didn't have my wallet. I looked around everywhere on the ground, in my purse, everywhere (I thought). I had a mild panic attack. I get off the train at the next stop and run over to the other side to try and get another train back to my stop before another Manhattan bound comes. Sadly, two Manhattan bounds pass while I'm waiting. I get back to my station, I go to look for the wallet that I believe I've dropped on the platform. Not there.


I cancel my chiro appt. I call 311 and they tell me lost and found doesn't open until 8am. I go to talk to the station attendant and see there is no wallet on the desk in front of her. There is a line. I decide to check through my gym bag.

There it is.

I had it the whole time, it was just hidden under my bag of lunch and my clothes.

I try to go back through the turnstyle but my unlimited is not ready to use again yet. I am forced to buy another metrocard to save time. I still managed to get to my chiro appt., only to get to work about 20 minutes late.

Of course I forgot that my new fellows had an orientation at 9am and none of them are there, and the rooms aren't ready. I had to reschedule their meeting.

It's now 10:30am. My heart has stopped racing and my fellows are slightly overwhelmed with meetings.

Oh, and I ruined my white shirt and now have to buy a new shirt after work.

6 comments:

Maxwell said...

The single greatest thing I've ever trained into my grandmother is "If you have ANY sort of question, ask me." I would rather serve as tech support for a few minutes each week than fix something for several hours once or twice a month.

And I freak the fuck out if I put my wallet, keys, or phone in the wrong pocket, let alone a different bag...

Not who I will be said...

In my mother's defense, she didn't know what time I would be home but still...retarded.

Also, I have the same freak out, but I'm getting more used to it now that I switch bags almost daily.

I seem to have lost my work ID again because of this though. I just can't win with keeping track of things. I used to use only my pockets and not carry a bag, but little squares or other shapes' outlines showing through pockets is just not all that attractive anymore. I wish it was though :(

Mrs. Pickle said...

I am always misplacing shit. I can never find my cell phone or car keys. I have to go on a scavenger hunt when I want to find them. Then when I finally do have my phone on me, I get a bunch of text messages from people who I don’t even care to talk to.

Miss Sassy Pants said...

My mother has the EXACT SAME PROBLEM.

I always want to yell, "CELLPHONES DON'T WORK IF YOU DON'T KEEP THEM IN YOUR POCKET."

It makes me insane.

B said...

I am always losing shit, in fact I went to vegas without my wallet!

Annah said...

I LOVE finding things that I think I've lost. Like my cell phone, which holds my life, aka, all my blog ideas and notes.

Also, my mother and I don't speak, we just argue. ALL THE TIME. So don't feel bad. Sometimes she asks me to move back home because I'm on a constant state of brokeness to which I reply, Ha! I'd rather eat Ramen Noodles and watch ABC shows for eternity to entertain myself than move back home. Unless I can no longer afford cable... Then ... :( That would suck.

Hugs! Sorry so long.

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