27 March 2008

I am not a receptionist

When you make a phone call at 4:55 in the morning, you should really double check to make sure you are calling the correct number. And when I answer the phone (thinking it must be some sort of emergency, other wise why would someone be calling my number that early) sounding like Walter Matthau, and I do not answer with the zest or pizazz you are expecting, and I don't refer to any sort of institution, PLEASE do not go on asking me three times if I am sure this is not the naval hospital and that Dr. (I-can't-remember-the-name-she-asked-for) is really not available.

Have some courtesy.

Now, I'm awake, still listening to the incessant dripping of the leakage even though the rain stopped early last evening. The people said the new place should be ready Friday, and I am not-so-patiently awaiting that moment hoping with all hope that when I return from work today there is nothing on the floor soaking wet due to the buckets over flowing.

On the positive side, at least there was no family emergency. And I have been able to make up some clever songs to the 70 beat per minute tapping of the water -- in both 3/4 and 4/4 time.

However, I am still upset at this lady and the fact that she ruined my already not-so-good night sleep.

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