Tuesday, December 06, 2005

Blues for a Tropical Negro

This week has been something else. It started out with me going to Ikea (AKA Satan's Furniture Emporium). Everyone told me how inexpensive Ikea is. Nobody told me that it's because they work the fuck out of their customers. Though I'd rather chew my foot off than buy one of their ugly ass sofas, their kids' bedroom furniture is pretty cute, so I got the munchkins' bedroom needs out the way. HOWEVER, I'm a 5'5 woman, therefore, picking up a bedframe is NOT happening in this camp. So I asked one of the guys to help me. Am I the only person that gets annoyed when, after asking a store rep for help, they look at you like you asked them to fuck their mother?
After finally getting my stuff then had to lug it over to home delivery. This, ladies and gentlemen, is an EXTREMELY painful procedure. See, they've already gotten your money, so they KNOW you're not going anywhere. Therefore, they make sure that you wait on them, just a fraction of a second prior to your commiting homicide. In any event, my experience there only compunded the other anger/emotional issues that I've got going on right now, so I went to bed almost as soon as I got home.

I woke up Monday morning to discover that we would be getting snow, not Monday night, but Monday afternoon. Okay. I can do this. And I made out fine. However, when I got home last night there was a message from Ikea telling me that my delivery would take place Tuesday morning between 8-12. After I was told that I could get evening delivery. Bitches. So I called them to let them know that I was able to purchase that shit because I have a job and therefore needed to reschedule. I was told that since it was so late, they could not reschedule? Uh, this is 12 hours before your supposed delivery. You're not coming on the Pony Express. Tell those hoes not to come. This situation is still simmering, so we'll see how it turns out.

This morning I woke up to everything blanketed in white. My neighborhood looked positively picturesque. And that's ALL that shit is good for. A fucking picture. I busted my ass this morning. Twice. While listening to my iPod. Essentially, I busted my ass to a soundtrack. Not sexy. After I fell the second time, I was like a traumatized kid. I was ready to stay my ass on the ground and not move until the snow melted.

I'm just gonna keep telling myself that it's going to get better. Coming from the Souf, Timbs are for fashion. I didn't realize that they were actually functional. Go figure.

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