I starting getting sick last night, and this morning awoke with a raging head cold. I called (actually, emailed) in sick.
Because it's me, things didn't go the way I planned.
This morning, I decided since I was up and had the whole day, I would get my unemployment appeal paperwork off my back. Since the hearing is Friday, I wanted to go to Kinko's, print out the appeal I spent a few days writing and revising, and Fedex it to make sure it got there in plenty of time. Sounds like a reasonable plan, right?
So I drag my butt out of the house in yoga pants and a fat chick sweatshirt, with my unwashed hair tied in a knot. Hey, lay off me, I'm sick. I managed to print out the paperwork, find an airbill, fill it out, and wait an inordinate amount of time to get helped. I made sure to seal the envelope so that the creepy Fed ex guy didn't get a chance to read all my personal business.
He types in the address, then looks at my airbill and frowns. "it says the zip code doesn't match the address," he tells me. I look at the notice of hearing I have from the court, and say "92802?" That's right. He then snatches the paper out of my hand, and proceeds to peruse the entire document, flipping through the pages and obviosly reading the sordid details of my current battle with my former employer. I was so pissed. And normally, he would have gotten an ear full from me, but I was standing there, looking like shit warmed over, with my head in a fog, and just didn't know what to do. Actually, it's not true. I knew what to do. I just couldn't do it. I didn't have the strength. He then proceeded to call 411 and ask a bunch of stupid and useless questions, loudly asking for THE UNEMPLOYMENT APPEALS BOARD (like there is only one of them in the country), then slamming down the phone angrily when the operator couldn't read his mind.
So, after looking at my paperwork way too long to see that the address, which was clearly
on the front page and clearly
the same as I had written, was not a mistake, he told me he couldn't help me because the computer would not let him enter it. Jackass. How dare you make me feel like a looser. You work at Kinko's.
So, I go over to the computers to look up the address on the internet, but of course when I put my credit card in, the thing flipped out and mooned me, then crashed.
So, I called the number listed on the paperwork (which stupid yelly nosy guy ALSO had, and could have called instead of 411, I guess), and the reasonably intelligent woman told me to just fax it, and gave me the number.
Of course, the fax machine had a paper jam, and then ran out of paper. I grabbed a stack of cover letters sitting next to the machine and shoved them in upside down, so I could get my confirmation. Fuckers.
Then I waited again in an unreasonably long line to pay my three bucks for sending a fax.
I got home and flopped on the bed, ready to pass out. Then the banging started.
It seems my upstairs neighbors picked today to fix the plumbing in their apartment which has been royally fucked up since last Christmas. Thanks, assholes. Could you maybe bring in a marching band and give me something to really bitch about?
Around 2 it started to quiet down, so I laid down for a whole half hour before I was awoken by three strange men in my bedroom who looked at me like I didn't have any right to be there, then said "Fire sprinkler inspection". Granted, one of them was a fireman and HOT, but still. And of course, I looked like crap.
So now the whole day is pretty much shot. I didn't really get any rest and I still feel like crap. Tomorrow I will go to work where at least it's quiet. However, no hot firemen will magically appear in my bedroom, either.