Downhill Disgust

I wish I could blame recent events on a full moon. Naw, that was last Friday. At least that's what the lady at my local Mailboxes, Etc. told me.

Backtracking momentarily...I will consider the previous post resolved. I have heard nothing more. I am not so naive that more is out of the question. However, I decided to take the high and the safe road and keep my mouth (fingers) quiet. The letter is on file - just in case - but no more on that.

Merrily along I go.......

Recent bumper sticker: Work Harder....millions on welfare are depending on you.

And...we deliver newspapers to the government subsidized housing neighborhood. I am not making a blanket judgment. Some nice people live there. Some people who truly need the extra help. I have no problem with those. However....if they can't (won't) pay for a newspaper, why do they feel they are entitled to receive one? I have three customers that flat out ignore payment. The newspaper will not cancel them unless they owe an enormous amount, yet I still must deliver and try to collect. Yesterday, "the gang" were all out "playing" in the driveway. Amanda was with me and held the paper out the truck window so that someone could get it from her. No one budged. I told Amanda to drop it where we were and I politely reminded the d!#! customer that he owed for three weeks of papers.

And.....

He laughed at me.

Not to mention the bigger issue. If you are so poor that you have asked the government to pay for at least part of your expenses, why are you spending money on a newspaper? (and add to that, new car, battery powered car for your toddler, every toy imaginable left out in all weather imaginable, drugs, cigarettes, beer). More than I have...I've obviously missed out. I'm living wrong.

I wouldn't have the nerve.

***********************

Yesterday my mom had a doctor's appointment (1:15). Routine visit. She told me that she was going to stop at the store for a couple things on her way home if she had the time. I reminded her that I was driving Amanda to work for 3 p.m. Well, the time arrived to leave with Amanda and still no mom. I don't like leaving my dad alone for too long as he can barely manage walking to and from the bath, etc. With no choice, I told dad that I would be right back and headed out. As we were driving to Amanda's job, I noticed that I was very low on gas. I made a quick check of my wallet to find only $15.00. Oh well, it would have to do. On the trip back home I stopped at the local, overpriced, tourist trap gas station to find that he was all out of regular. Only had premium and believe me, it's a premium price as well! This meant heading back to Gloucester for gas. But, as far as I knew, dad was still alone at home. Also at home was a set of keys to get working on, the player piano to work on, Amanda's health insurance paperwork and mine as well. Yikes. Better run home and get gas later.

Mom was home. And she'd stopped at the store. She says the doctor was running late. I asked why, then, had she stopped at the store afterwards? "If I didn't I'd have had to go back later", she says. "But mom, now I have to! And I've got piles of work that has to get done."

"Better you than me" was her response.

Thanks mom.

I need a really super, spectacular, nifty, joyous, big grin inspiring event.