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| When I get old |
| 12.29.06 (9:34 pm) [edit] |
|
I'll talk about Christmas later.
Since I feel like hell (with the disease that just won't quit, every major hurdle it comes back again, and me without insurace) I just want to share one thought. I hope when/if I get old I don't become so... lonely/depressed/picky/fu ssy/anal/whiny that I have to call up my grocery store and complain about being overcharged a whole 50 cents for...basically rabbit food, that should have maybe been on sale (because it was in the ad!) and pestering the grocery clerk, who not only doesn't work in the department in question, can't make you that department's problem, but has never even heard of the rabbit food in question, on the other end attempt to find out who is wrong and who is right. Chances are in the time spent making the poor, weak, grocery clerk identify the general spieces of the rabbit food, find it, and come back, I will have just spent 50 cents on the phone call. $5 maybe, if I had to feed a lot of rabbits, and the difference added up to $5, possibly. But com'on! It's 50 cents! |
| 0 Comments |
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