What we have here....

First, the good news. My name is on the Laughing Liberally website again--they have me down for the Boston show. Don't have the details as to exactly when I will be performing later this month, but this definitely qualifies as progress!

Now, the bad news: As if you didn't know, communication is a dying art. That's been the theme of the past few days around here, anyway.

Yesterday, we received a proposal for a reno on our back porch. It appeared to have been drafted by someone else besides the nice men we spoke to--in fact, we're wondering if the nice men we spoke to had any input into the proposal at all.

The one theme of our vision for the back porch we repeated over and over again: We don't want to have big, heavy windows that we have to remove each spring, we want windows that open out or sliders we can open and close with ease. (We're planning to be in the house until we're candidates for the Lesbian Ladies' Home, see, and are already a little challenged in the upper body region.)

But the proposal? It consisted of a multitude of doors that had windows in them--big, heavy windows, from the looks of things--that had to be removed if one wanted ventilation instead.

Shortly after that disappointing bit o' business, I opened the envelope that was supposed to contain the missing nails from the pulls we recently bought for our new, fabulous built-ins. Silly Ann! There were no nails in the pouch from the manufacturer, no nails at all--instead, perhaps appropriately, there were screws. Multitudes of screws--useless, no-need-for-'em screws.

Last but not least, today, I went to CVS to get a copy of a receipt. That's not entirely accurate. Actually, I needed a legible copy of an existing receipt. I keep my receipts for prescriptions, for I have one of those marvelous labor- and money-saving devices called FSA (simply put, it's an account for medical expenses). Problem is, the company that is supposed to pay for my medical expenses occasionally questions a charge, even when it's for the same amount as other charges that it allows to sail right through.

Anyway, I had the receipt, but one would need an atomic microscope to read it--though it's been less than three months since I secured this puppy, it had already faded to the point of uselessness. And yes, a copy would be an exercise in futility (tried that, too).

So was going to CVS for a legible receipt. They don't do that, especially--get this--for receipts that old.

Less than three months is old?

And after imparting that insanity, the pharmacy clerk instructed me to go to the front of the store to talk to the manager.

You guessed it: The manager wasn't in, and wasn't going to be in until tomorrow.

Yeah, I'm thinking about taking my four monthly prescriptions elsewhere....

And yes, I have my crankypants on, sorry. How are you doing?