Last Wednesday, Greg called and asked me to make a phone call for him about a question he had about his financial aid for school. Normally, this wouldn’t be a problem. He was working in an area where he didn’t get great cell phone reception and I had a light day at work. So I made the call and the recording said the office was experiencing a higher than normal call volume because (duh) school is getting ready to start. Still I was thinking, “Meh. How bad can it be?”
Even when the recording said there were twelve callers ahead of me, I continued to think that I would get my call answered in a timely manner. I like to live in denial. I sat on hold for fourty.five.minutes. Thank goodness for speaker phone and unwritten thank-you notes from Adrianna’s birthday party. I haven’t finished them all yet, but I made a pretty good dent in them.
When the financial aid rep finally answers, I explain my situation. He was very accommodating and helpful. So what did I find out when I did talk to the rep? That Greg had already filled out the appropriate online form Tuesday night. Sooooooo . . . he took care of his financial aid question but still made me sit on hold for FOURTY-FIVE EFFING MINUTES. When I settled down enough to call him and ream his ass politely tell him what happened, he said, “Well, I just wanted to be sure.”
Ahhhhhh! Next time, I think I will just let him sit on hold for 45 minutes when his OCD won’t let up and he has to triple check himself.
Then the next day he called me when he left work (at 2:30 pm) and said, “Babe, I don’t feel good. It’s so damn hot & threw up a few times today.”
Me: “How many is a few?”
Him: “You want the truth or a lie?”
Me: . . . . . .
Him: “About twelve.”
Me: “$#%%#@^&, Greg! When it’s this $%^&ing hot, WHY DON’T YOU WORK INSIDE?!”
Him: “Why are you yelling at me? I don’t feel good. Remember?”
Then he napped the evening away because he was 0.2 seconds away from a heat stroke. When he woke up, he had the nerve to yell at me because I was on facebook for 15 minutes while I was simultaneously updating the blog. Hellllllooooooo??? You were napping, jackass!
And? It’s called multi-tasking!
Apparently my job is to watch him while he slumbers. It’s not like he had a concussion and I dropped the ball when I was supposed to be keeping him awake.
But then later he felt bad and gave me a foot rub.
It’s all about balance, really.