Ask Not For Whom The Phone Rings, It Does Not Ring for Me!

I'm tired.

I am sitting at home all bloody day, awaiting calls from the electrician (need something hooked up), the library (like that's ever going to happen,) Shopko (looking for a discount I am not getting,) the people who are holding our vacuum hostage (Oreck repair guy is taking too long to fix it. Our carpet cries foul!), and the clinic (something for Mum.)

Nobody has called.

My Facebook status reflects my frustration; the only thing I said today was AGH!

Tired. Tired. Frustrated. Tired.

I want the PHONE TO RING!

Ta,
Bec

PS: I just sent this to my buddy Zach, who feels sorry for my phone call-less plight.

My mother and I have come to the conclusion that we have ceased to exist again (happens once in a while round here.) Maybe we have to do something illegal to get someone to notice we're not invisible.

Mine right at the moment is: Wait for the sun to shine, then make sure to slap cream on your sunburn. I never get what I'm after. I'm signed up for three or four contests right now, and I'm only guaranteed to probably win the one because there are very few people in it. We never win anything; we never get lucky; and we never catch breaks. In my division of the family, you're better off not waiting for fate to come and give you a kick. Make your own stuff. Do it your way. Don't expect to get anything for even close to free.

It's not all bad. We have a good laugh around here a lot of the time because we're aware that our luck is at a negative setting, and it's not likely to change. I have this insane idea that it's going to (hasn't for 26 years. Why should I hope I'll get what I'm after? Determination and I'm bloody stubborn as all hell, that's why.) I figure that if I keep my head down (ducking bad things like plot bunnies) and plow through that someday someone's going to look at me and go, here, have something for all the shit you've taken. We love you. Now go spend money on something. You're welcome.

The fact that that hasn't happened yet doesn't faze me in the least. I make my own pies to put fingers in.

Our pastor said a couple of weeks ago that those who suffer most on Earth will get the nicest mansions in heaven (wasn't phrased like that, but that's how I took it.) Here's how I see things- The African continent, the Central Americans, and the Asian subcontinent are going to score BIG there. Most Americans and Europeans will have postage-stamp lawns in comparison. The South Americans will be in the middle. And there we'll be, in the middle of the American section, with a nice house with a jacuzzi and a pool so big you can't see the edges. And God will give us pie and cake and lots of donuts because he feels bad for making us ridiculously miserable down below.

Like I said, I try to stay positive and duck the flying bunnies.

I'm gonna head to bed. I've got heartburn again (sigh.)

Ta,
Bec