Home is an excellent place to be, especially when there are many packages waiting for you.
A million years ago, I ordered a CD from the internets and was really looking forward to its arrival. I especially hoped it would come before we left for Edmonton, since it would be excellent traveling music. Alas, nothing showed up and it’s not available for purchase on iTunes Canada, so we left for our trip making due with the other 40 or so GB of music we travel with.
When we got home last night, there was a package notice tacked up to the common bulletin board. It was for me, and it was dated 5/12/08 – two days before we left. The fuck? As near as I can figure, the post man screwed up and put the notice in #11’s slot. For normal people, this wouldn’t be a problem – check your mail, see something that doesn’t belong to you, tack it up on the board (or hand deliver it, if you’re me).
Unfortunately, #11 is the penthouse, home to the idiots upstairs. They check their mail once every two weeks or so, meaning my delivery notice was not found until after I needed it. There’s no real harm done – I picked up my package today, it is delightful, and I certainly wasn’t lacking for video game soundtrack J-Pop on the trip – but grrrrrrr anyways. I hate waiting, and finding out I waited because someone else is dumb is just .. poopy.
Now that I’m home, my flu is completely kicking my ass. I was able to keep it mostly in check on the road by keeping myself utterly wacked out on Tylenol Sinus and moving on to more hardcore drugs – Tylenol Flu – but now that I can completely relax, the germs are taking over. I think a day or two not spent in a car or with small children will help, but in the meantime .. *whine*. Sick.
Oh, and I uploaded some pictures to my Flickrs. I haven’t completed the captions yet, but .. y’know. Pictures.
