Well, actually not.
Ye old blog blew up today, and there was no fixing it. So, to save evreyeon the frustration of the atomic disaster, I threw up the password protection for a couple hours.
Which in turn, set my email on fire :)
So now, we're back to a basic template until the rest can be worked out.
Sigh.
Needless to say the helpful links sent to me by the Typepad IT department are, well, meaningless to my brain. I can't figure out where this stupid tag code goes, so until I can, this is it.
Love me anyway?
Dear "The Brown Truck" people,
As a long time and loyal customer, I wanted to write and say "Thank You" for the fun and exhilarating time we had together this week. It's not often that I'm so impressed with a company's ability to absolutely do everything in their power to take years off my life, and remotely strip the color from my hair.
It was a simple package delivery. A wee little bubble mailer.
It started it's happy little journey in Salt Lake City, UT, a city I could personally drive to and back in under three days. With two teenagers. And a dog with a restless bladder.
So, when I received word that you would get my package to me in three days, I thought "They're professionals. No worries," and I went on with my life.
By day three, I'd not heard from you. No updates, no phone calls. Nothing. I was dead to you. I called you, and you couldn't find my package. You broke my heart.
On day four. you let me know you had in fact found my package. Unfortunately, you'd routed it to the wrong distribution center on the other side of the country. But, you promised me quick resolution and I Would have my package by day five.
Because I had to sign off on my package, I'd now sat at home for two days waiting for you to knock on my door.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Life is short, and you wasted my time.
Day five came and went, and nothing.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Like the sands of the hourglass, so were the wasted days of my life.
Finally, day six came and Oh! Joy! of! Joys!
At 9:32am, you told me my package was out for delivery.
I eagerly checked again at 11am and VOILA!
You had delivered!
Uh, wait.
Delivered?
Odd you hadn't knocked on my door.
Or fallen over the husband that was sitting in the rocker on the front porch at 10:47am, when you said you had been here.
So, I called you. And found out you had in fact delivered, but to a house three streets over.
Sigh.
What did I ever do to you? Please tell me.
Rather than wait another three days for you to come back out, pick up the package and redeliver it to me (and probably send it to Kalamazoo first), I hopped in the car and drove to the neighbor's house.
The 80 or so year old woman who answered the door was relieved I had shown up. Except she had some bad news.
It appears that your contracted, not in the brown truck but in a pickup truck driver who delivers out here decided to help himself to the contents of my package. And then leave the package on her porch, with the torn open side down, and beat a hasty retreat out of there.
When I called to advise you, you tried to place the blame on the 80 year old lady. Unfortunately, neighbors talk and this is not the first time this has happened out here.
So, I'm holding onto the evidence for the 5 business day, as you requested. You're welcome to come and inspect the package. And talk to the 80 year old neighbor.
That is, if you can find your way out here.
And we don't live anywhere near Kalamazoo.
When that's done? We're through.
I just can't take it anymore.
You lied to me when you told me those six little words.
"Don't you worry 'bout a thing".
Now, I won't.
I'll "Relax, it's FedEx."
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