Caution

Ducking from the flying debris, I vaulted over a half torn down chain-link fence. My heart was pounding from the manic running and each additional step felt like it would rip my lungs to shreds. But to stop... pause, even was to die. So, I kept running away from the sounds of the battle, away from the threat, towards what I hoped was relative safety.

The bunker was partially destroyed, but I spied an opening and shimmied in just as a tremendous explosion lit up the sky and for an instance it was bright as daylight. The walls trembled, but stood firm. For the next few hours I huddled in the darkness trying to contemplate my next move. Exhausted, I fell asleep.

When I awoke, it was to an eerie silence. While I had slept, the battle had passed over me and moved on. The air was thick with smoke and fumes from fires that still burned on the ground. As I looked out wondering if I should leave, a slight movement caught my eye. Someone... or something was approaching the bunker picking its way through the debris field. I watched in panic as it drew nearer knowing that if it came in here, I was defenceless.

Suddenly the smoke cleared and I got a good look at the figure. My heart leaped in relief; it was Beer Baron! Scrambling out of the shelter, I ran towards him calling his name. He stopped and smiled, then as I ran up besides him he raised his hand. He was holding a gun and the gun was pointed at my head. "No.... it's me...." I said, confused. But there was no friendship in his eyes as he spoke. "If it is really you, tell me.... what would you make sure to have in your house before I came over for a visit?"

"Please....." I whispered.

"TELL ME... or I will kill you. Now."

I didn't know the answer. I didn't know what he wanted to hear.... what would keep me alive. Fear and exhaustion washed over me and at that moment I did not care if I would live or die. I looked up at the face of the person I thought was my friend, and said, "A plunger."

His face broke into a smile and he lowered the gun.

And then, I woke up.

The End

I am writing this sitting in my bedroom in the T Dot. 

Everything around me is familiar and yet strange. Perhaps it is because my head is still reeling from the events of the past 4 days and my body is still fighting Eastern Standard Time. So much has happened that I hardly know where to begin. 

In between the bouts of jet lag, I feel anger. Rage. Sadness. Disbelief. Grief. And about a hundred other emotions that I cannot even fully comprehend right now. 

Sometime, soon I will have a story to tell. But for now I am too heartsick. Too homesick.

Pink. Not my Favourite Colour.

Pretty much all of Scotland has been getting slammed with the worst kind of winter weather. Snow, sleet and ice is all that the weather fairy is offering on the menu. It has caused the worst kind of chaos as this country is so not prepared for the ravages of winter storms.

And yet there were a small group of us that still managed to trudge in to work every single day. From 6pm to 10pm every night, we toiled away. There were at time anxious glances out the window as the snow started to accumulate to alarming proportions. Over the radio we heard repeated announcements for folks to get home early as there was fear that most main highways would soon be shut.

Last Monday, as the snow was gathering to alarming proportions, we asked if there was the possibility of getting off work early. After a lot of hemming and hawing, permission was given to leave 30 minutes early *only* if we made up the time later on in the week. Very thankful, we scampered off. The next day, we each got a call from work telling us that the back shift (that's us) was to be temporarily suspended due to the weather.

I must admit that I did enjoy the unexpected night off. It was actually the night of the epic foot-in-mouth moment, but hey it was still a night off and it felt wonderful to out and about like a regular person! But as the days went past, and the snow and ice melted and we still didn't get a call back to work, there was a stink in the air. It wasn't until last Wednesday a whole week later that we were finally recalled to action.

By this time, I had a sinking feeling about the whole situation. And right enough. As we all sat down at our desks, the manager came by and handed us all a letter. It's just about your contracts he drawled. It sure was. And the fact that this was our one week's notice of termination as the back shift was being cancelled.

Its not the fact that we've been laid off. Its not the fact that I've lost a job that I was counting on to see me through the next six months. Its how it was done and the really lame reason (change in company dynamics) that we were given. The reality is that we were asking too many questions, making too many "demands", actually bothering to question how things were done.

Today was our last day. Not one person from management stayed behind to acknowledge that 12 people were leaving. Perhaps even to thank us for our efforts? Wish us good luck? A Happy Christmas?

I'll miss the fun times with my colleagues and the security of a regular pay. But I cannot say that I'm sad to be out of there. I've been working for 10 years now and that was truly an interesting experience. But I am slightly thankful that I do not have to be part of that environment any more.

I am instead, going to focus on spending Christmas with my friend and everything else that the holiday season has on offer.

Pixy out.

Lady Justice, You are Blind Indeed

Somewhere in the midst of the fun and laughter and revelry of the night out in Soho last month, my credit card was stolen. I didn't notice the loss until the next morning and called the company right away. They canceled the card and assured me that there had been no charges made although someone had tried - unsuccessfully - to use the card to buy train tickets to Manchester. Cheeky sods! The new card came in the mail some days later and life went back to normal.

That is until I received my bill and the first thing I notice is a £300 ATM withdrawal made the same night my card was nicked. Raging, I called the credit card company and filed a disputed charges claim. This was on a Friday night two weeks ago. Today, I get a notice in mail dated the Monday after that first call informing me that "their investigations into the fraudulent claim is complete and I am liable for all charges".

When I called the fraud investigations department, they were unable to tell me what kind of investigation they had completed. They only thing they kept saying was that because my PIN number had been used, I was liable. The inference was that the chip and PIN technology was fool proof against fraud. Apparently they haven't been reading the papers or following the news. And sadly for me, it is the same bunch of numpties who are apparently the "experts" in the world of fraud. These are supposed to be the gatekeepers and the watchdogs of finance.

No wonder then, the whole bloody world has gone to hell in a hand basket.

Mind That Language!

Last year as I packed for my relocation to G Town I was very conscious of the fact that I was moving to a place where although people claimed to speak English, it was a far cry from the English that I knew and loved. It was a garbly-goo version that drew perplexed looks even folk on the other side of Scotland. Still, I persevered and after much random smiling and nodding during my first few months here, I eventually tuned my ear into the melody of Weegie-speak. We will ignore the fact that I probably agreed to all sorts of unmentionable stuff in the process of being lost in translation.

There was a lot that I was nervous about as I packed my bags to head to England for this summer, but one thing that I didn't think would be a problem was, language.

Well, it should have been.

Other than four Irish folk, the rest of my colleagues are all English hailing from as far north as Newcastle and as close by as Portsmouth itself. All of them claim English as their first language. Yet, I'm having the darnedest time with comprehension. The accents are broad and varied, the phrases they use totally alien and the words don't seem to have the same meanings that I am used to.

And so I've resorted to the tried and tested coping mechanism of smiling and nodding. Again, I'm not sure what I have agreed to or promised out. I'm sure I'll find out over the course of the summer!

Voodoo Cleansing

There is some funky magic happening right now. My past lives are being investigated. Somewhere in some previous existence I must have done something very very naughty. There must have been something so horrible that I have done either in this, or another life that I am paying paying paying dearly for right now.

Like the fact that exactly a month ago, Boss Man called to assure me that although he had dissolved the company it would only be a matter of a week before he had the new office up and running and I would be back at work.

A week passed, and then another. I went to Paris and returned. In between, I made a fair few calls to Boss Man, sent along a few text messages and emails as well. I finally got a text message back saying that the new office would be up and running by the end of week. When I hadn't heard back by Thursday afternoon, I sent along another text message and email asking if we could meet so that I could collect February's pay.

Since then, its been regular phone calls, text messages and emails to him asking the same question - When am I to be paid? No reply.

By my calculations, he owes me around £700 for a combination of work hours and expenses. That works out to 2 months rent... and then some. Groceries. Real food for a change. Don't get me wrong, the yogurt and raisins diet is making me very regular, but I'm kind of craving actual meals again.

And then there's all those pesky bills from the Paris trip. Which was only booked in the first place as I figured that I would be working for a few weeks and I'd be able to afford it all right.

Right now, I'm just hoping that the witch doctor soon runs out of pins to poke into the Pixy doll and that the fires of the strange magic are extinguished soon. Very soon!

The Jury is Back and We Have a Verdict

With a mere 4 days to the next fundraising event, it is all systems GO for me right now. There are calls to be made, volunteers to be rounded up, prizes/donation to be collected and about a hundred different details and loose ends to be tied up before the big night this Friday.

And of course, let's not forget the all important details - the outfit!

At the last ball, I was all set to wear boring trousers and a borrowed top when a surprise package arrived from my aunt in Canada with an evening dress inside. She'd heard about my wardrobe crisis from my mum and dispatched a dress that I had borrowed from her before. Add sheer pantyhose, a nifty bolero jacket to dress it up and strappy heels and voila, we had a elegant ensemble!

This time around, I was slightly better prepared having bought a beaded chiffon sari when I was in Bombay that I knew would be PURR-FECT for the evening. Having decided to forgo my usual strappy sandals and instead wear my brand new black peep toes, some planning was required. Accordingly, I put on a pair of thick socks and prancing around the house commenced.

Rain Main (the flatmate) chanced upon me washing up dishes in my PJs and of course the socks-and-peep-toes combination. I'm practicing was my response to his startled look. He shook his head in a "whatever" fashion and moved on.

Then yesterday, he overheard me talking to Gingersnap on the phone. I was in the middle of chopping veggies for dinner, so had her on speakerphone. The poor thing was trying (unsuccessfully) to make me comprehend the complexities of eyeshadow. You put the darker colour on first and just off to the right of the lid, and then follow through with a lighter shade that's complementary, but not totally a match and then layer that with the thingybob with the dooddad of the other colour........

It's too bloody complex, I grumbled to her, and reminded her that I didn't even OWN eyeshadow. An eye pencil and lip gloss was the extent of my makeup range! I'll just have to get you done myself was her last exasperated statement as she rang off.

Rain Main looked at me quizzically.

You don't know anything about makeup.

You need to practice wearing heels.

You don't even OWN your own dresses.

I nodded in response to each statement.

He shrugged and walked out of the kitchen, turning back for one last comment.

You really are a crap girl!

I nodded again to his retreating back.

The Competition

Dropped in to the career centre yesterday to make some copies of my CV and send off some faxes to prospective employers. The fax machine was playing up and so as I stood around waiting for it to come back online, I shamelessly indulged in my favourite public pass time - eavesdropping!

Over at the one table, an employment counsellor was talking to a young man about his options during these trying economic times. They went over all sorts of ideas from gardening to wood-crafting and I believe I even heard jam making being briefly discussed. The gentleman (and I'm using the term VERY loosely) didn't seem interested in anything that she had to offer. Finally, he got up to leave and asked the counsellor if he could come back after the recession is over!Another stellar example of the Glaswegian youth decided to join me at the line up for the fax machine and soon struck up a conversation. He was most interested in my accent and even after I told him (twice) that I am Canadian, NOT American, he persisted in telling me in great detail everything he just luuuuuurves about America. I quickly tuned out, but snapped back to the present as he explained just why he was so obsessed with that race. I figured I should know everything about America since I'm going to marry an American someday. Well, its good to plan ahead isn't it?

The fax machine was finally back online and I sent off my applications. As I turned to leave, I caught a scrap of conversation between a 30-something woman and another counsellor. And why do you want to become a relationship counsellor?, he was asking her. Well, lots of reasons, but mostly so that I can warn other women about the louse I was dating for the past 5 years. I see it as my DUTY and more of a calling than a job really.I left the career centre a little bemused. If THAT was an example of my competition, how is it that I'm not employed???

Wanted: Vampire Assistant and Cauldron Makers

From being in recruiter mode over the past two months, I have now switched over to the other side of the fence - job seeker. Although the overall situation seems dismal at first glance, I have been finding interesting HR positions as well as some other interesting project coordination type roles.

And it also appears that even though organizations may be posting for fewer opportunities, the ones that are being posted are certainly, erm..... intriguing!

Take Project Manager - Scrum Master for example, which incidentally I first read as "scum" and thought that it could either mean mico-biological research or working in a law firm.

Or Heavyweight Senior Business Project Manager; would you have to submit your vital stats for this posting? And certainly, no Nicole Ritchie's wanted!

And then there's this position that is actually with Beans' organization - Clerical Assistant, Twilight Post which honest to goodness sounds like a vampire coven is recruiting!

But the one that took the prize was an advert for a witch (yes, you read right) at a tourist site in Somerset. It wasn't the job functions that made me pause - live in a cave, be a witch, do things witches do. It wasn't the candidate requirements either - must be able to cackle, cannot be allergic to cats.

It was the salary.

Apparently the going rate for a first class, live-in witch at a tourist site is an astounding 50,000 GBPs. I wonder if it is hazard pay for occupational inconveniences such as occasionally being hunted down by mobs of angry villagers and potential burning at stakes?

Old Wives' Tales

A very strange side effect of Bean's stomach flu has been his inability to stop hiccuping. Apparently it was so bad that he hardly got a wink of sleep last night and it continued all day today playing havoc with his work as well. One of his colleagues told him that its an old wives' tale that you hiccup when someone is thinking about you.

And so, I got a text message a while back that said I love you too, but for feck's sake can you think about something else for the next little while???

Rude Awakenings

Drifting in and out of a comfortable Saturday morning dream, I could hear that pitter patter of the rain outside my window. I drew the comforter closer around me and burrowed deeper into the bed. An almighty clap of thunder jarred me right out of my reverie and brought the harsh light of day into focus.

Except, that that light was muted and subdued, even though the curtains were pulled back. I opened my eyes wider and saw that the sky was dark with angry clouds and the rain wasn't a pleasant pitter patter anymore, rather a vicious lashing force working with a wind that bent the maple tree to ominous angles. I was still taking this all in when I head a rumbling. Thunder, it wasn't. It sounded more like a monster version of a garbage truck was making its way down my street. I peered out of the bay window, puzzled.

And then, jumped back in alarm as hundreds upon thousands of missiles suddenly landed on the lawn in front of me with an intensity that made them bounce back up and slap against the window pane. For the next 5 minutes the air was filled with the rat-tat-tat of these heavenly bullets striking against the driveway, the sidewalk, the parked cars and the roofs.

And then, just as suddenly as it arrived, it ceased. The rain lessened to a muffled hum and then that too stopped. And only then did I creep back to the window to take stock of my battered world.
Pictures by a friend, LK.

Preparation

Ma Nature is apparently getting in on the act of preparing me for my upcoming departure to the land of thistle, bagpipes and................everlasting rain. We woke up this morning to freezing rain mixed with snow and a forecast of 3 cms of accumulation for the GTA and up to 25/20 cms for certain parts of Ontario!!! Oh for heavens sake!

To add insult to injury, today is the Jays' Home Opener down at the Rogers Centre. That's supposed to mean THE END OF WINTER folks! They're not called the boys of summer for nothing!


Who can I call and ask for a refund on my Spring? Provincial govt or the Feds?


The rain in Scotland however cannot be a deterrent because if one waited until the weather was nice to make plans or "do" something...well, one never would end up doing anything! As such, Beans and his team mates who are training for the Maggie's Bike and Hike charity event in 4 weeks time were off hiking in the Scottish highlands near Ben Alder on Saturday. As the story goes

"....it started lashing down with rain as soon as we left the house with the kind of intensity that would have put a smile on Noah's face. Being kitted out with the latest in waterproof clothing we stayed dry for nearly seven minutes. After that it was similar to being in the shower, except cold, and we were fully dressed and there was no shampoo. Beans and I calculated that twenty five miles is the equivalent to walking up and down an average length bath 13,000 times."

For more on the Leaping Badgers and their training antics, see here. I really do hope that these eejits actually make it to the day of the event in (relatively) one piece and don't all succumb to pneumonia from walking around in the freezing rain for 7.5 hours.

This one's for Penguin Pal

A bit late I know, but I only just heard about this from a friend last night. It seems that Percy Penguin the unofficial mascot of the London School of Economics (LSE) was stolen some weeks ago. All that remains are the feet and the base of the statue that was a donation by Canadian LSE Alumnus Louis Odette.

What is even stranger is that a similar penguin statue also created by Toronto artist Yolanda vanderGaast was stolen eight years ago from an Odette-funded sculpture park in Windsor, Ontario.

Officials are pretty sure it is no more than a prank and most certainly alcohol related so chances are, they're not going to put a whole lotta effort into tracking down leads. Understandably, LSE students are upset and some point the finger at their rivals at King's College.

Penguin Pal, no doubt you are troubled by this blatant act of penguin terrorism and so here's something to cheer you up.

They said HOW much?

As planned, I headed over to one of the large chain book store locations last night to pick up my much awaited and anticipated copies of Cellist of Sarajevo and Geography of Bliss. Seeing as how I had a total of $75 in gift vouchers, I was confident I would be able to pick up some others as well.

I wandered around the store looking for deals, and finally after much deliberation decided on The Jane Austen Book Club (Karen Joy Fowler), The Last Wife of Henry VIII (Carolly Erickson), The Secret Life of Bees (Sue Kidd) and for that all important fluff factor, Remember Me? (Sophie Kinsella).

Arms laden, I went over to the checkout counter where the charming young man rang in the books, beamed at me and said, "That will be $132.65 Miss."

I nearly had a coronary! Even with the gift vouchers, that was a difference of almost $60 that I just couldn't afford. So, I had to choose carefully from the list and I finally came away with the original 2 + these ones below.

As I left the store with only half of the books that I thought I'd be able to purchase, it was a good reminder to me why I stopped shopping at the Evil Empire of Chapters in the first place and switched over the way more customer friendly BMV (Books, Music, Video) and ABC Books stores where I could have gotten a whole pile up of books for $75 and perhaps even a second hand freebie thrown in as well.

Never a Dull Moment

I never realized just how insulated my office space was until today. I came out of my cubby and walked towards the kitchen for a coffee and stopped short when I saw 2 paramedics and a firefighter standing in the reception area.

Turns out, our Payroll Coordinator was having some sort of a panic attack and we'd dialed 911 for help. The paramedics showed up and had began working on my colleague for about 10 minutes before I'd even realized that something was amiss!

They ascertained that although not in any immediate danger, she would need to be moved to a hospital.

Then came the fun part!

Our office building is roughly about 120 years old. Built way before the times of notions of complete accessibility etc etc. There is a short - but steep - flight of stairs from the street to the elevators, that are themselves rather small and pokey. One of my colleagues went off to find the building manager to check about the freight elevator while the firefighters went off to check the exit access to the street.

The building manager was nowhere to be found, and so they ended up having to take her down in the regular elevators (the stretcher folds up into sitting position) and then between them they carried it down the flight of stairs to the street.

Lessons learned:
1. We need to know how to contact the building manager in a hurry.
2. We need to know how to access ALL exit routes on the floor. (Some of my colleagues didn't even know there was a service elevator)
3. Firefighters are hot hot hot tamales! The stereotype is SO true in this case.

Strange and Unexplained Phenomenon

Although I have lost a considerable amount of weight ever since the start of this year, I sorta plateaued out around October and have stayed almost constant ever since. I (try to) go to the gym at least twice a week, and each time I religiously weigh myself - for reassurance more than anything else.

Which is why when I weighed myself at my friend's place on my arrival in Wellington, I was MOST surprised to find that I had dropped about 7 lbs.

I weighed in at around 167 in the T Dot, and then suddenly 2 days later (2 days of sitting around in airports and on plans that too) I'm 7 lbs lighter. I knew I was going to loose a day flying here - no one said anything about weight! Or maybe this is just one of those strange things you hear about the southern hemisphere..... like the water going down the drain in the "other" direction- which I have yet to see btw!

A mystery for sure, but one that I'm in no hurry to get solved!

Overdose

Day 1
My mum was admitted into the hospital last week on Wednesday. Her surgery (Werthers' Hysterectomy) was scheduled for 8am, which meant that she need to check in at 6am. So, accordingly the entire family woke up at some ungodly hour and trotted off the the hospital. After getting her settled into the room and prepped for surgery I left and hastened downtown to work. Got there just in time to set my phone/email to "out of office" grab my files and head over to Union station to catch a train out to Waterloo which is about 2 hours west of the T Dot. Got there, attended my meetings, gave my presentations, met the people I needed to meet, shook the hands I needed to shake and then it was right back to TO. Went over to the hospital that night to stay with my mum. Thankfully she was loopy on morphine and snored most of the night away. Didn't get too much sleep myself as the room was freezing (but mum was hot), the floor was icy cold (even through the sleeping bag) and it seemed like my mum and the dude next door were competing for who has the loudest post-operative snore.

Day 2
My dad relieved me the next morning and I trooped off home to catch some much needed zzzzzzs. Woke up at 11am and worked from home for the rest of the day. Back to the hospital for the night shift. Mum was moving around now, and so this night was filled with trips back and forth to the washroom.

Day 3
9 am the next morning. Where the HELL is my brother? He was supposed to relieve me at 8 am. 9:54 - Brother finally shows up. Sans coffee. Grrrrrrrrrr. Run back home. No time for a nap as have to sit in on conference call at 10:30. Continued working right through the afternoon. Trippy* and the Beer Baron rescued me that evening and I headed off with them to oogle at Daniel Craig's ass. (ok, just Trippy and I were doing the oogling) Back to the hospital after the movie, that's when the fun REALLY began.
Woke up at around 1 am coz my entire body felt like it was on FIRE. Apparently I had been itching in my sleep and my arms and tummy and legs were all red and there were some weird-ass looking welts all over me. Realizing that I hadn't had too much of sleep over the past 2 days, there was the distinct possibility that I was dreaming up this entire episode. A quick check in at the nurse's station confirmed that I was indeed awake and in need to medical attention. Well, good thing I was in a hospital! So, after making sure my mum knew where I would be, off I went to the ER.

It was easy enough to check in and get my "wait-in-line" number. The hard part was trying to find a seat in the waiting room where I could avoid catching another disease! It was truly hard to avoid all the coughers and sneezy and feverish folk who had strategically placed themselves all over the waiting area so that no matter which way you faced, you were in direct line with one (or more) of them. I spied a seat that SEEMED to be angled just right. As I settled in, I at once realized WHY that seat was empty. The girl across from me looked like she was going to hurl at any minute. Eesh! Well, it was too late to move; All the other "good" spots were taken. And besides, I was already drawing curious looks as I was in PJs and bedroom slippers with a big shawl wrapped around me. So it was sit tight and hope for the best!

About 1.5 hours and 20 songs on my mp3 player later, my name is called and I'm told to "....follow the green dots to room 9." Feeling a little like Indy Jones on a treasure quest, I comply with direction only to find myself in another little waiting area; what a let down! I guess they sort out patients by their symptoms/illness so I was with a group of fellow symptomizers.

Unfortunately (or fortunately) by the time I actually saw a doctor, the hives/rash had subsided so I actually didn't have anything to show him. He looked at me most suspiciously (well, who could blame him? I was wearing cheeky monkey PJs and fuzzy blue bedroom slippers) as I tried to explain what exactly the rash looked liked. Anyway, without any current symptoms there was little he could do so he told me to get some Benadryl and come back if it got worse. Great, 3 hours later he tells me to do what I wanted to do in the first place. We did figure out however what DIDN'T cause the hives!
- Not food: symptoms would have manifested with 15 mins to half hour of eating.
- Not a bite: symptoms would be localized to one area of the body.
- Not medication: I wasn't on any (though I could see he doubted that)

So back I went to my mum's room to try and catch whatever sleep I could sitting upright in a very uncomfortable hospital chair.**

Day 4As soon as it was possible (i.e 6 am) I called my brother and told him to come pick me up - and bring some Benadryl! Went home and crashed and was thrilled that the hives had all disappeared when I woke up. Thinking that everything was peachy once more, I headed off to get my hair cut. By the time I got back, my mum had been discharged from the hospital and we had a whole load of people over at our place all supposedly trying to "help" but in reality they were just all in way! Finally got them all out and my mum settled in, just in time for the hives to flare up again! Great!

A quick call to Telehealth Ontario assured me that I didn't need to run back to the ER, instead keep up the regular doses of Benadryl and apply lots of cooling lotions on affected areas. This time around, it was all over my back which of course meant that I couldn't sit down or lie down very comfortably and that meant that I had to sleep on my belly all night long.

Day 5 (today)Woke up this morning and the rash on my back is all gone - only to be replaced by a rash all over my neck and upper chest and around my shoulders. So its been regular guzzling of Benadryl all day long and constant lathering in lotion and here I am!

Wonder what tomorrow will bring???


*The artist formerly known as Menace will henceforth be referred to as Trippy. Why? 1. She didn't like Menace and threatened to withdraw breakfast pancakes until I made the change (that sounds menacing to me!) and 2. She trips and falls down rather a lot. There is a funny story about Trippy, a road in south India and a local bus; but that's for another day.

**Just why ARE hospital chairs so bloody uncomfortable? I mean, surely they know that there will be some very concern (and very tired) relatives and friends visiting and/or spending the night. At the very least the hospital administration can say - Let's give them some nice chairs so that they in turn don't have to show up in the hospital with a strained back!

Already?

Went out to celebrate a friend's birthday last night at a bar downtown. As I stepped into the foyer of the bar what do I see but a FULLY DECORATED AND LIT CHRISTMAS TREE!!!!!

For Heavens Sake. It's only November 1st. We've BARELY gotten over Halloween. Some of us are still nursing the hangover and shame of the antics of the night before. (What IS it about a costume that brings out the slutty best in us all?)

BUT, I digress. As I was saying, November 1 is just too damn early to be seeing jolly old elves and hearing Bing Crosby carols.

And then, 10 minutes ago I was channel surfing and I saw the first Christmas themed commercial. God Help Us, Everyone.

Paging Mother Nature - get a grip woman!

I was startled to feel light flurries hit my cheeks as I stepped off the bus last night. Still, we'd had flurries this early before, but always the kind that melted as soon as they hit the ground. Apparently Ma Nature was out partying late last night, coz obviously someone has been playing havoc with her magic. This was the scene in my backyard when I woke up this morning. For Pete's sake - it's not even November!!!!!

Why did I have a 2 day headache, you ask?

Not just yet, Miss!
In an effort to speed up the process of getting me a refund on the purchase of my Zoom tickets, Amex had asked me to fill out some paperwork and send it to them. There were 2 purchases - one for $704, the other for $148. I filled out all the paperwork and sent it back.
Yesterday, I get a letter to confirm that $148 will be shortly credited to my account. When I called to ask about the other $704 I was told that I have to fill out a whole other set of forms.
Gah!


Say WHAT??!!!
Got an email from a gym that I used to be a member at telling me that I owe them $701 in unpaid dues. Apparently they never filed the paperwork from when I cancelled my membership last April. I'll be damned if I have to pay for someone else's mistake.

Sweet Baby Jesus, give me strength
My colleague was on vacation and I had to man the general info email. Copy of actual email trail.

Email 1:
Dear Sir,
I forgot my password. I cannot login to the website. Could you please email me a new password.
Thanks,

My response: Your password has been reset to XXXX.

Email 2:
Hi, Even with the new password I cannot log in to the website. It's appeared that I am not registered with the program. Kindly resolve this
Thanks,

My response: Are you sure you went to the correct website? You are registered with program ABC. If you go to the website for program XYZ, it will not let you in. You need to go to http://www.abc.ca/
Regards etc.

Email 3: Yes. I went to the website for program XYZ. Then I clicked on log on. And I put my email address as user name and XXXX as the password. (Which you sent right now.)But it's not working. I cannot log in.

Me: Repeated thumping of head against cubicle wall. Did not help the headache.