frustrations accumulate like snow
Thursday, 30. November 2006, 20:23:15
Today the washer/dryer that the owner's of our flat bought was to be delivered. Oh happy day.
However, the store called to say "it didn't make it on the truck". What? It sounds like they asked all the appliances to please board the truck but mine was in the bathroom and missed the last call at the gate. This was even more silly because the store called the owner who had to call the leasing agent to get my number so she could tell me to call the store and arrange a new delivery time. Got it.
Well it get's better. After talking to various people from the store off and on all day and being given a one choice of delivery days after another (each won't work for the store) it finally dawns on someone to check inventory first. And lo, it turns out that no store has it in stock and the central warehouse won't have it for another 75 days or so. Two and half months from now and they bought it weeks ago.
It's the store's error and they will make it right but soince this involves picking a different machine or machines, the owner has to make that call. And so I contact the leasing agent so he can ask the owner to talk to the store so we can get a washing machine before mid February.
As my wife said, "I am not walking a mile in the snow with a baby to do laundry. That is not on."
Time for adventure number 2 of the day. My nice winter jacket is being held hostage. I went on a mission to set it free and take it to our home where it can relax until it's time for it to go to work keeping me warm. The evil empire holding it against its will is the Norwegian Post Office. Apparently when my family wraps up a gift and sends it themselves, it comes right to me but when they order it online and have it shipped right to me, the postal service can declare that they are uncertain of it's value and threaten to charge duties and taxes and open it up for inspection in case I am shipping unlicensed free range avacadoes into the country. Or something.
In any case, I head down to the main Post Office using the address on their website. Only there's no public door. Trucks are coming and going from the underground warehouse, there are several small locked doors with cameras and keycard readers and security men. I'm pretty sure I could sneak in. I've seen a lot of movies. But how would I find my package and liberate it. I need an accomplice, like maybe a public Post Office where you take a ticket and the person calls your number and then goes to the back to get your package. But there is no public entrance. So much for the main post office, I guess I'll go to a small local branch and hope for the helpful attendant who feels mercy for me and my coat.
Tomorrow is the corporate Jule party. It seems somehow quaint that no one is chatting and discussing whether it should be called a Holiday Party or a Winter Party instead and whether they should put a menorah and a kinara by the Christmas tree. I hope it's fun. Some will drink and some will dance and both to excess. I rather expect that I'll do very little of one, none of the other and nothing to excess. I don't do excess well.
On dancing: When I was young, I would dance at clubs or parties or wherever we were. I once danced with a goth who worked at an ice-cream shop, she dreamed of opening a club "like the one in The Hunger". I was invited to model for my hairstylist at a club. The director instructed us to get to a certain point and then, and he really did say this, "just wig out". It was no problem. But now I find it awkward and stressful and lacking the easy fun of 20+ years ago when I went to 5 proms and was invited by strangers to clubs where you had to enter from the alley and there was no sign. I don't want to relive those years, not for anything. But sometimes it would be nice to reach back to that eccentric skinny kid I once was and borrow his sense of wonder or his more generous nature or simply his comfort in his own skin.
An Afterthought:
Doesn't Eric Schmidt(CEO) advising Republicans violate Google's mission statement of "do no evil"?
However, the store called to say "it didn't make it on the truck". What? It sounds like they asked all the appliances to please board the truck but mine was in the bathroom and missed the last call at the gate. This was even more silly because the store called the owner who had to call the leasing agent to get my number so she could tell me to call the store and arrange a new delivery time. Got it.
Well it get's better. After talking to various people from the store off and on all day and being given a one choice of delivery days after another (each won't work for the store) it finally dawns on someone to check inventory first. And lo, it turns out that no store has it in stock and the central warehouse won't have it for another 75 days or so. Two and half months from now and they bought it weeks ago.
It's the store's error and they will make it right but soince this involves picking a different machine or machines, the owner has to make that call. And so I contact the leasing agent so he can ask the owner to talk to the store so we can get a washing machine before mid February.
As my wife said, "I am not walking a mile in the snow with a baby to do laundry. That is not on."
Time for adventure number 2 of the day. My nice winter jacket is being held hostage. I went on a mission to set it free and take it to our home where it can relax until it's time for it to go to work keeping me warm. The evil empire holding it against its will is the Norwegian Post Office. Apparently when my family wraps up a gift and sends it themselves, it comes right to me but when they order it online and have it shipped right to me, the postal service can declare that they are uncertain of it's value and threaten to charge duties and taxes and open it up for inspection in case I am shipping unlicensed free range avacadoes into the country. Or something.
In any case, I head down to the main Post Office using the address on their website. Only there's no public door. Trucks are coming and going from the underground warehouse, there are several small locked doors with cameras and keycard readers and security men. I'm pretty sure I could sneak in. I've seen a lot of movies. But how would I find my package and liberate it. I need an accomplice, like maybe a public Post Office where you take a ticket and the person calls your number and then goes to the back to get your package. But there is no public entrance. So much for the main post office, I guess I'll go to a small local branch and hope for the helpful attendant who feels mercy for me and my coat.
Tomorrow is the corporate Jule party. It seems somehow quaint that no one is chatting and discussing whether it should be called a Holiday Party or a Winter Party instead and whether they should put a menorah and a kinara by the Christmas tree. I hope it's fun. Some will drink and some will dance and both to excess. I rather expect that I'll do very little of one, none of the other and nothing to excess. I don't do excess well.
On dancing: When I was young, I would dance at clubs or parties or wherever we were. I once danced with a goth who worked at an ice-cream shop, she dreamed of opening a club "like the one in The Hunger". I was invited to model for my hairstylist at a club. The director instructed us to get to a certain point and then, and he really did say this, "just wig out". It was no problem. But now I find it awkward and stressful and lacking the easy fun of 20+ years ago when I went to 5 proms and was invited by strangers to clubs where you had to enter from the alley and there was no sign. I don't want to relive those years, not for anything. But sometimes it would be nice to reach back to that eccentric skinny kid I once was and borrow his sense of wonder or his more generous nature or simply his comfort in his own skin.
An Afterthought:
Doesn't Eric Schmidt(CEO) advising Republicans violate Google's mission statement of "do no evil"?
I'm having my fair share of bureaucracy, of course. The USDA for the dogs was fun yesterday. Esp. the whole June-July-August-September do not equal at least 120 days thing. (!?!) I think it bothered her that I refused to get stressed out. She was stressed and trying to get me to join her on that ride--at least in the morning. In the afternoon, she was back to being professional. And throughout, she was really just annoyed with the veternarian, not me, so it wasn't too bad. (When it comes to bureaucracy, having survived the China adoption process counts for a lot, patience-building wise, I think.)
I'm basically at the stress point of being so stressed that I am almost eerily zen about everything now--I know I will be on a plane on the 12th. I know that a LOT of shit has to happen between now and then. It must happen, so it will, and it will because it must. Etc. Etc.
I love you so much, and miss you like hell.
By fjordmonkey, # 1. December 2006, 04:28:58
I got screwed by a direct shipment from a US company to Poland; ended up having to pay a few hundred dollars of tacked-on import taxes! Should have had it sent to a friend in the US and then to me.
PS Several times now I've had the captcha code here simply reject my input even though I feel certain I typed in the characters shown.
By anonymous user, # 1. December 2006, 16:12:38
By balzac, # 1. December 2006, 16:19:39
ALways always always, when ordering anything from home, have it shipped to someone in the US and then reshipped to you, as a gift, by them. never order directly online....fraught with problems. (Unless it's Amazon, books are no duties, and you can usually squeeze in one dvd or cd without charges as well).
Norway has such ridiculously low import allowances, it's insane. Once I spent $300 on duties for a load of socks and sweaters I sent myself....which is the second lesson, don't insure anything!
By anonymous user, # 1. December 2006, 20:28:45