I had my alarm set for 6 a.m. today, so I could head over to Sean’s and participate in the trivia contest I mentioned here. It’s hard damn trivia. I was overly excited that I knew two answers without having to look anything up. You’d understand how awesome that is if you knew the rest of questions were things like: Who do the Cheetah Girls thank for their success on their self-titled album? and What did TV’s Robbie Miller tell Reverend Burns was the name of the three wise men? I don’t think we got either of those.
I left a bit after noon to head to an eye appointment. I’ve been getting headaches daily for the last week or so, and I figured this would put a good place to start in an attempt to figure those headaches out. It didn’t take the optometrist long to figure it out. $130 later and I’ll be bespectacled in about a week.
I’m headed to nap for a while and return to trivia to pull the all-nighter. As much as I wanted to stay up for the whole thing, f four-legged crybaby named Riley but the kibosh on that.
And, finally, I talked to my regular mail person this afternoon. She went into the rental office in the other building to make sure my packages weren’t there. And guess what? They were fucking there. The stupid ass property manager, who didn’t think things were so funny last week when I informed her human shit on my bathroom floor that wasn’t mine was a health code violation, seemed to think it was pretty funny to tell me on Tuesday that I had no packages. Turns out she just didn’t open her stupid fucking eyes long enough to find them. Why all the rage? It’s the second time this particular front office person has overlooked(?) my packages. Grr. Lots of rage.