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Brain vacation
Aug. 5th, 2017 06:07 pmOne time, my electric toothbrush battery died. Instead of just brushing analog like a normal person, I stood there frozen--wondering how on earth I was gonna brush my teeth that day. I had to go to work! I couldn't NOT brush them...
This went down in history as my most absurdly absent-minded life events ever. Not a big deal, just a "holy crap, that was dumb" situation.
Today, my friends, I think I beat it.
We get tons of packages because of Amazon. We also get our groceries from there (well, 70% of them or so), plus I get a Box of Dread every month. So yeah, we're pretty packagey.
Today I got four packages, one of which was really super heavy.
The others were all Amazon stuff for review: some socks, another spy camera, another disco light, some really cool playing cards...like that. The heavy package was USPS priority mail. It was quite heavy and there was stuff moving around loose inside (not alive, but I feared breakage). I couldn't imagine what it could be, or even who it was from. I looked...but didn't know the person.
Turns out, the address label was sort of wonky, but the package wasn't even for me.
Since that bitch upstairs moved out, I don't actually know the names of any of our current neighbors. *pause to consider how sad that is* I got dressed and thought I'd try to figure it out. I walk into the hall, and look at the package again. It's addressed to, if you'll pardon the expression, a foreign-sounding name I couldn't begin to place with a nationality or region. But the cut off address was like [numbers Street, apartment numbe] But on the next line in a different font, it said R4.
Ah, I reasoned. This must be for apartment four.
Which one would that be...Hmmm.
The apartment across from me is #1, so I know it's not them. (if you've been to my place, you might already be laughing here. If not, fear not. Imma let me finish.)
I go down to the end of the hall...to see apartments #2 and #3. Wait, where are the people for the package? This makes no sense. Suddenly I can't even find Apartment 4. This is the dumbest thing ever. Who designed this stupid building anyway? I hate it here!
Still carrying the heavy package, I got back to my apartment...
...where I am reminded that WE are Apartment 4.
Oh FFS...
Anyway, I left the package by the mailboxes. I have even less idea who it might be for now.
This went down in history as my most absurdly absent-minded life events ever. Not a big deal, just a "holy crap, that was dumb" situation.
Today, my friends, I think I beat it.
We get tons of packages because of Amazon. We also get our groceries from there (well, 70% of them or so), plus I get a Box of Dread every month. So yeah, we're pretty packagey.
Today I got four packages, one of which was really super heavy.
The others were all Amazon stuff for review: some socks, another spy camera, another disco light, some really cool playing cards...like that. The heavy package was USPS priority mail. It was quite heavy and there was stuff moving around loose inside (not alive, but I feared breakage). I couldn't imagine what it could be, or even who it was from. I looked...but didn't know the person.
Turns out, the address label was sort of wonky, but the package wasn't even for me.
Since that bitch upstairs moved out, I don't actually know the names of any of our current neighbors. *pause to consider how sad that is* I got dressed and thought I'd try to figure it out. I walk into the hall, and look at the package again. It's addressed to, if you'll pardon the expression, a foreign-sounding name I couldn't begin to place with a nationality or region. But the cut off address was like [numbers Street, apartment numbe] But on the next line in a different font, it said R4.
Ah, I reasoned. This must be for apartment four.
Which one would that be...Hmmm.
The apartment across from me is #1, so I know it's not them. (if you've been to my place, you might already be laughing here. If not, fear not. Imma let me finish.)
I go down to the end of the hall...to see apartments #2 and #3. Wait, where are the people for the package? This makes no sense. Suddenly I can't even find Apartment 4. This is the dumbest thing ever. Who designed this stupid building anyway? I hate it here!
Still carrying the heavy package, I got back to my apartment...
...where I am reminded that WE are Apartment 4.
Oh FFS...
Anyway, I left the package by the mailboxes. I have even less idea who it might be for now.
