FrickingFedEx

OK, so my empty pocket book has had no effect on my generous heart. And those ruthless bastards over at Smithsonian took advantage of that fact when they sent me their catalog to tease me. In it I saw the most beautiful shawl of the style Deb likes to wear; in a color that would coordinate perfectly with her turquoise jewelry.

As we are headed up to Denver to help my Mom out with some stuff it seemed like the perfect “good wife” gift. No occasion at all mind you. Just an unexpected present.

The timing would be tight, so I ponied up for the overnight shipping at great cost. That was on a Saturday. I figured they wouldn’t ship until Monday. Tuesday night came and no shawl. I checked the order status online and found it was “processing.” I fired off an angry email and next day heard back. It shipped Tuesday, not Monday. It’d have it Wednesday when I got home from the Clinic.

It wasn’t there.

I fired off more angry emails demanding the tracking number, and, exhausted, went to bed.

I got up six hours later to get Rio dressed and off to Kindergarten. We head to Denver after we pick him up this afternoon. I call the 24-hour customer service number and try to be polite, even though my blood is boiling.

They show FedEx delivered it yesterday, at 4:10 in the afternoon; which of course, they didn’t. I ask for the tracking number and go to FedEx’s web site myself. I pull up the signature. It has the name of one of the front desk girls at the clinic. You gotta be kidding me.

I load Rio up and head into town, on the way in I call my early-bird assistant on my cell. Hey this is a dumb question, but did FedEx deliver a personal package to me at the clinic yesterday? Yep, she replies waaaaaaaaay to cheerfully, I found it this morning and I put it in your office.

(Insert favorite expletive, in bold, underlined, add italics).

Shocked silence then “Ummmmm…..I think your breaking up, I didn’t quite make that out,” she said, embarrassed.

So I drop Rio off, drive 156 miles out of my way, on a day I’m going to drive across two states to get the damn shawl. It is exceedingly beautiful.

Only in a state like New Mexico would a FedEx driver drop a package addressed to a person at a certain business in one city at another location, in another town altogether. It’s like a thousand-square mile small town.

What really aggravated me even more was the fact that if someone had mentioned it to me yesterday, I could have just taken it home last night. The package and I were within 100 yards of each other for over two hours.

When I finally got home Deb was still asleep. I took the shawl out of its package, draped it over her and went into the library to start writing this post. Shortly there after my soft clicking (not) on the lap top’s key board—bad habits left over from the days of manual typewriters—woke her up.

Is that you?

Yeah.

Didn’t you get some sleep?

I went into the bed room. No I just got back from the clinic.

The Clinic?! Why did you have to go over there?

I sat on the edge of the bed, “to get this.” And I flipped the corner of the shawl up over her face.

Delighted gasp.

So, inspired by my young patient yesterday, I took a correction bolus in my arm today. Too early to tell if it worked. Would be handy to take some shots in the arm; like when out eating. I’ve got pretty scrawny arms, if I take an IM hit instead of a SubQ the insulin will go into fast-forward and it could end badly. That said, I’m using a Novo 31 gauge 6mm pen needle, so it’s pretty short.

My arm aches, but probably only ‘cause I’m paying attention to it. I’ll let you know. Now off to get the punk and head north. I’ve got a brick in my car incase I see a FedEx truck.