Letter to a Toy Merchant

Dear Toy Merchant,

Why, oh why, would you send a toy purchased online during the weekend after Thanksgiving to a home in its original packaging instead of the traditional brown shipping box? Could you not fathom that perhaps the purchase, bought during the most popular holiday shopping weekend of the year, might possibly be a gift for a child at the designated shipping address?

It happens, you know.

People buy items online and ship them to their home and use them for gifts! Really!

Do you know what happens when a child residing at said home sees the undisguised toy box on his front porch?

Let me just tell you.

The child wants the toy. Now. The child pesters his poor, tired mother for the rest of the night about that damn toy. "What was it? Who is it for? Where is it? Can I play with it?" On and on and on...

It is even worse when the toy in question was going to be a gift from the big man in RED.

Yeah. That can't happen now. How is mommy going to explain why Santa left a toy for Christmas that they already got in the mail? She can't, especially when the boy is 5 and has a memory like a computer chip.

So thank you, toy merchant. Thanks a LOT. You have made my life just a little bit more complicated.

Your disgruntled customer,
Stacie

P.S. You suck.

I Swear It's a Conspiracy

Be warned. This is another curse filled vent.

Today I got a notice in the mail saying that C..C..S has now denied the boys services (read therapy!) because "I" failed to complete their requested documents. That is bullshit, of course, because I sent the documents in last month. I am anal about such shit, actually.

I have copies of all the forms, but still. Now I have to go to added trouble of writing a fucking appeal letter describing why this judgement is in error. While I don't expect there to be an issue in the long run, (good grief there better not be or you'll likely read about me in the paper) it is just another thing that I have to do because someone somewhere didn't do their fucking job.

Again.

Fuckers.

I suppose I could just walk the paperwork down to the office and input our information into their computers myself. Maybe that would save a step. You know, do the work upfront rather than after the fact.

Ugh. I am so annoyed I could just spit. Or throw things. Or cry.

Sigh.

Add this letter to finding out that I am going to get yet another principal next year (I think this will be the 20th admin change while I've been at this school) and receiving a jury summons today...and well, I am glad this day is over.