And I said...............Chanel, dis blog's fa yuu!
Apparently, one must blog long and often to stay in the good graces of those who lovingly search for updated writings.
It's Friday afternoon. As my work week ends, my work weekend at home quickly fills with just one item on the old skedoolie.....Laundry.
Now, some might say I have a laundry fetish...and they might be right.My family has slowly come to realize that I have a genuine "thing" about my clothes and how they are laundered. And yes, it might border on psychotic, but I prefer to think of it as careful and meticulous in the care and upkeep of my wardrobe. I subscribe to the theory that it is not quantity, it is truly quality when it comes to the wash.
Now I've heard every story and disdainful comment from those who claim to do their wash in just two loads...lights and darks....the cliched "pink" load of whites.......blah, blah, blah.....the fact of the matter is, you MUST (and this is the part I want to emphasize) MUST separate your articles of clothing into . Some claim to quickly empty their hamper without so much as a thought to water temperature, tub load size, the correct wash/rinse cycle or the exact amount of detergent for the specific load...and believe me, there is a science to all of that! My rantings have finally sunk in..........no one touches my laundry but me....
Lest you think I don't put as much thought into how I dry my wash, don't worry. I concentrate even more on properly drying than washing, I'll wager. Not everything goes into the dryer...and when you hang things to dry, there is a delicate art to shaping the garment just so as to maximize it's life and appearance....I'm a master, but it's taken me years to pefect my craft. it's too detailed and complicated to go into here, but suffice to say, I never vary, I never stray, I never shorttcut, and I never fail to bitch and moan if someone else in my family "does it wrong."
The way I figure it, I've got about twelve to fourteen loads of wash to do this weekend...I'll start tonight and see how far I get. I never panic if I don't have an empty laundry basket by Sunday night...like I said, it's quality, not quantity.So many clothes, so little time............................Besides,there's always next weekend...
Friday, September 30, 2005
Thursday, September 22, 2005
Going postal...
So today I had a classic, stereotypical moment at the dang USPS...that would be the post office, slangily. I encountered the WORST(and YES, I could know that) POSTAL WORKER ever. I was sending two packages to South Africa...don't ask...just know that it does not involve Nigerians or money transfers and is one of the worst tasks assigned me in my otherwise "that's why they call it work" job.
I found out today that, even though I have received numerous email messages from the US Postmaster hisself extoling the virtues of "click and ship" (No, that's not a typo, its "ship") along with tutorials on both clicking and shipping parcels, apparently no one actually employed by USPS is privy to any of the information on their own website. None of the employees know anything more than what the customers tell them. Of course, I take partial blame as I foolishly went to a different branch of the PO as it was closer to home. The WORST POSTAL WORKER EVER announced that the labels I had prepared using the UPSP's own "click and ship" program were, in her words, "Not valid." She repeated this over and over and even held up one of my carefully prepared labels and asked the clerk next to her if "didn't he think it was invalid?" From six feet away, he squinted and agreed with the WORST POSTAL WORKER EVER that the label was, as far has he could tell.....invalid...Rather than argue with them, rather than explain that I had mailed to this customer a bajillion times, I simply gathered my paperwork and quietly announced that I would take my packages to the Hillsboro Post Office where Ben, my postal guy, works. He never tells me my labels are invalid. He always tells me that my scales need calibration, as my package weights always differ from his by at least 2 ounces....sometimes as much as 6 ounces, but he still puts labels and stickers and lots and lots of rubber stamps on the parcels. Somehow they always end up in the right place...Halfway House, South Africa even though the WORST POSTAL WORKER EVER said Hafway House doesn't accept Express Mail. O YES THEY DO, you dumb......WORST POSTAL WORKER EVER!
I drove to my regular PO and Ben accepted my packages with a smile and sly wink when I told him that I wouldn't be surprised if my package weight was off by an ounce or two! Oh...postal humor! In and out...zip, zap, take a crap!
I only mention all of this as I believe it may well be the Aloha Post Office where I possibly...and I emphasize POSSIBLY...may have left my very best, most cherished pair of reading glassses.
I don't look good in glasses...loathe and despise them, frankly, but I like my little tiny Microvision Pen readers. I couldn't find them anywhere when I arrived at work today. I searched my car three times, emptied the duffle I call a purse twice..........no glasses............they are gone. I loved those glasses.....and that's why I hate the PO.
I found out today that, even though I have received numerous email messages from the US Postmaster hisself extoling the virtues of "click and ship" (No, that's not a typo, its "ship") along with tutorials on both clicking and shipping parcels, apparently no one actually employed by USPS is privy to any of the information on their own website. None of the employees know anything more than what the customers tell them. Of course, I take partial blame as I foolishly went to a different branch of the PO as it was closer to home. The WORST POSTAL WORKER EVER announced that the labels I had prepared using the UPSP's own "click and ship" program were, in her words, "Not valid." She repeated this over and over and even held up one of my carefully prepared labels and asked the clerk next to her if "didn't he think it was invalid?" From six feet away, he squinted and agreed with the WORST POSTAL WORKER EVER that the label was, as far has he could tell.....invalid...Rather than argue with them, rather than explain that I had mailed to this customer a bajillion times, I simply gathered my paperwork and quietly announced that I would take my packages to the Hillsboro Post Office where Ben, my postal guy, works. He never tells me my labels are invalid. He always tells me that my scales need calibration, as my package weights always differ from his by at least 2 ounces....sometimes as much as 6 ounces, but he still puts labels and stickers and lots and lots of rubber stamps on the parcels. Somehow they always end up in the right place...Halfway House, South Africa even though the WORST POSTAL WORKER EVER said Hafway House doesn't accept Express Mail. O YES THEY DO, you dumb......WORST POSTAL WORKER EVER!
I drove to my regular PO and Ben accepted my packages with a smile and sly wink when I told him that I wouldn't be surprised if my package weight was off by an ounce or two! Oh...postal humor! In and out...zip, zap, take a crap!
I only mention all of this as I believe it may well be the Aloha Post Office where I possibly...and I emphasize POSSIBLY...may have left my very best, most cherished pair of reading glassses.
I don't look good in glasses...loathe and despise them, frankly, but I like my little tiny Microvision Pen readers. I couldn't find them anywhere when I arrived at work today. I searched my car three times, emptied the duffle I call a purse twice..........no glasses............they are gone. I loved those glasses.....and that's why I hate the PO.
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