28 September 2009

Like a slightly befuddled, chubby phoenix, it rises from...something

Gah. Almost an entire month went by. I have lots of pictures on my ancient digital camera (hereinafter known as, I think, the ADC or the Brontosaurus) of recipes and such. There has just been a lot going on and...brain hurty now.

First, my mother. My brother and I have been working her towards moving and she's begun the process of clearing out stuff from the house minus the bulldozer we thought about sending to her. I mean...wow. She and my dad lived in this house since 1974 so there is, er, quite the accumulation. I'm pretty sure any joke about Jimmy Hoffa and his potential whereabouts has a punchline regarding some room in my mom's house. During our phone conversations, I have asked at least once during the conversation "Mom, do you even have any idea what is in Closet X?" (or Drawer Y...Filing Cabinet Z...the rafters of the garage...so on and so forth)

The latest parental experience was that her landline was broken for two days. I normally call her every night but wasn't able to until the second day. At that point, I get recordings of some lobotomized phone company employee saying, "The party you are trying to reach is not answering and this call will be disconnected." This continues for four hours. My brother can't reach her, either.

Cue visions of my mother lying somewhere on the floor unable to reach help and sounding uncomfortably like that woman in the "I've fallen and can't get up" commercial. Not to mention that, with no landline, she has no access to Life Alert...if she was even wearing it (another story for another time).

Now, I'm ten hours away at minimum - depending on when I could get a plane flight. My brother is ninety minutes away. He's getting into his car at 10 p.m. to make the drive to my mom's house when she finally calls his cell phone to tell him about the landline. Apparently, the magical phone fairies were going to fix it.

No. I'm not kidding.

Long story short, Mom was made to call the phone company to get the phones working. Mom also now has a new cell phone that she WILL FREAKING USE versus simply ignoring the one that was in her purse.

And my brother and I are exhausted.

Moving on...when you run a business and hire a 17-year-old whose stated hero/idol/I-wanna-be-just-like-her role model is Paris Hilton? You're in for interesting times.

We've had a couple no-call/no-shows with the following lecture of when you're supposed to be at work by 11, it helps if you actually get up before 11; take a note. Several interesting stories about tickets for speeding, getting caught in the parking lot of the mall in the wee hours "doing nothing", etc.

Plus, I've been working a lot more hours there in addition to my regular job, which can make for a grumpy hermit sometimes. But, seriously, for the love of toast, if you don't want to work anymore, at least have the courtesy to give some kind of notice rather than just completely stop showing up and not returning any phone calls. Paris Hilton shows up to the opening of a fricking envelope.

People. They make me crazy.

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