Although you wouldn’t know that from looking at any of my notebooks from today, which are all helpfully labeled
November December 1, 2008. I am officially not at my brightest after a long weekend.
Today was…trying. I could use different words, but I do not want to offend my mother, and I’m trying not to be snarky. So. Trying.
First, it snowed. Which means my feet got wet and it was just very uncomfortable and inconvenient. And I was stuck behind this guy going twenty miles an hour down the road and yeah, I get that it’s wet and you want to be careful, but when you can see blacktop and it’s so wet it’s spraying (not iced), you can go 3o. I promise.
My partner showed up for our presentation neglecting to realize that it was, in fact, the day of our presentation. Loser. Hatehatehatehatehate.
I painted the bathroom and the front hall after school. Bathroom went well, fell in love with the color all over again, but the front hall was…trying. I slipped on the dropcloth and threw paint all over the carpet, which is fine because the carpet is leaving as soon as Loser Contractor shows up and NotLoser Roommate can rip it up. But I was slightly worried about it dripping through to the wood floors. Hmmm. Oh well. Not really anything I can do about it.
After all this, I decide to stop at Kohl’s to use my lovely Kohl’s cash from this weekend, and am helped by the dumbest and most suspicious of all the Kohl’s employees EVER. I used my mom’s charge to pay for it, because I had a coupon. I’m listed on the card as a user, but they wouldn’t send us a new one. Whatever. I do this every time I go in there, it’s never a problem. But this idiot insists on carding EVERYONE. So I give her my ID, and explain the situation. She looks at my ID. The credit card. Fails to realize that maybe if the last names and the addresses match, not so much of a problem. Looks at me as though I may have stolen some children too, because MY GOD if you are going to fraudulently charge $18 on someone else’s credit card, WHERE WILL IT END.
Anyway. A manager is consulted. By this point it’s been like five minutes and there is a line. I kindly offer several other methods of payment. She glares at me. Apparently, there is no way to cancel a transaction and rering it once it has been started.
Um. I beg to differ. I work in retail. You can make those damn machines do anything you want, especially something as elementary as cancelling a transaction. But alas, I do not get to impart my register wisdom on her, as when she is trying to cancel the transaction she pushes it through and it gives me a receipt. Which I then take and walk out of the store because IT IS MY CREDIT CARD DAMMIT.
The ennui? I has it.