I picked up the damn penny.
I even said the damn sentence.
You know, “See a penny. Pick it up…”
So why is today the day when the hits keep rolling in. One after another.
I don’t care that it is rainy, crappy day outside one moment and hot and muggy as all hell.
The squash and zucchini I set aside for ratatouille went tits up over night. What is tits up? The vegetables rotted really badly. A combination of water and heat, neither of which I knew about, last night someone placed dripping cans over them and someone else cranked up the heat. Uncover the veg to discover nasty, unusable veg. Unfortunately, the discovery happened after we returned from grocery shopping.
Bad vegetables I can deal with through another trip to the grocery store. The phone and email sounding off every five minutes for an hour I could not. I do not express frustration often, in public that is. The combination of phone and emails had me expressing myself and my frustration very publicly.
If you ask me for something and I get you that something, there had better be a damn good and clear reason why that is not the right thing. In a nutshell, Barb and I had been asked to provide some documentation. When the inquiry was made, I asked a lot of questions. I wanted to ensure that the right documentation was provided.
Today, a series of email exchanges and phone calls explaining how what we were asked for was not what was asked for, mostly. Mostly? What the fuck, does that mean? It means that there are shades of documentation, 50 shades at least, and our documentation while indeed gray, was not the gray they were looking for. What gray were they looking for? Well, it looks like what we presented, but not so much with a bit here and another bit there, but not those bits which while exactly what we asked for are not what we asked for and while we are at it, if we could do all of that while jumping naked, covered in oil, through this flaming hoop into this flaming barrel that would be just fine.
I don’t mind being told no. I do mind feeling like I am wasting my time. I feel like I am wasting my time. Given that we are running out of time, wasting my time is not something I wanted to be feeling. Progress. Progress is a good feeling. I am not feeling that.
More messed up, is that the people asking for documentation had just congratulated us on being one-step closer to our goal. Now that goal is…well, I don’t know and that bugs me even more than feeling like I am wasting my time. This is why I have backup plans to backup plans. I just don’t want to have to switch to an backup plan.
On a plus note, my degree has been found. Seems it bounced back to the college and they called me. Hooray. It may arrive sometime in the near future. Stupid forwarding mail.