lord loves a working man

went back to work today.  sort of.   mostly running around town, buying office necessities, waiting for furniture to be delivered, sorting out details like fax numbers and phone lines, waiting on hold with bank of america, those unamerican nazi fascist warmongers.  every time i interact with them i swear i will cancel my card, and then i never do, and then they do it again.  worst customer service in the history of the world.  the WORLD, people.  

some day when i have *way* more energy i will chronicle my bank of america tales for you.  truly incredible, the way they screw up in such colossal ways, over and over.  more incredible: the fact that i still have an account with them.  WHY????  i'll tell you why: because every time i get a credit card offer in the mail i read the fine print and ohohoh lookit who services the card!  BANK OF AM-ER-I-CA.  THEY ARE APPARENTLY THE ONLY CREDIT CARD COMPANY IN THE UNIVERSE.

i unpacked my boxes from my old office today.  the ones that my old office boxed up *for* me when i told them i was not coming back.  well, they kept all my office supplies.  MY office supplies.  as in, ones *I* bought.  even took the light bulbs out of my lamps.  ooookay.  you guys owe me a space heater, a three hole punch, a tape dispenser, one reallynice stapler that has seen me through numerous bank of america battles, a leather desk pad, TWO black wheeled briefcases, and a whoooooole rainbow of uniball pens that i bought myself because i hate cheap bic pens.  

but what's more annoying is that they threw everything into boxes without packing it, so i now have one shattered stained glass lampshade and one cracked veryexpensive piece of fine art pottery.  i mean, when i discovered that they had wrapped all my pottery in ONE layer of wal-mart plastic bag (seriously why even bother) and thrown it loose into the bottom of a banker's box along with nail files and old business cards, i was SHAKING with anger.  this is pottery that i bought in the homes of the artists themselves, laid out on quilted beds and old kitchen tables in a mexican village with no electricity or running water where dogs and mules roam the streets, pottery that i carefully wrapped up in 10 layers of bubble wrap and drove carefully across unpaved back roads in chihuahua, mexico and across the border, pottery that would fetch a small FORTUNE in santa fe.  AND YOU JERKS CRACKED ONE OF MY FAVORITE PIECES.

and Kitten is super cranky tonight.

end of post.  i'm in a terrible mood.  better luck tomorrow.