Hey ... where's my bazooka?

Some days you should just kill the alarm clock and put yourself out of the misery waiting for you.  Take heart my sweet readers, life's not that bad for me.  I'm just fussing and plowing through the day's minor annoyances.  I'm trying to fly under the radar screen of the bad ass problems that I know are out there chomping at the bit.  Oh, don't be all Susie or Sammy Sunshine on me.  You should know by now that I am Susie Sardonic, and that I'm not being negative, I'm just telling it, like you and I know it really is.  

What today?

Oh let's see, I go home for lunch ... sort through the freshly delivered mail only to realize I am now the disgraced non prompt payer on one of my credit cards.   This news breaks me out in hives, because I am a pay as you go sort of girl.  I tend my business like no other business I have to tend.  So, after frantically trying to find last month's bill to no avail, I called the credit card company and turned on all my southern charms.  Yes, I possess a few.  Enough for Mister Credit Card Service Man to agree that I am ONE of their most fabulous paying users of all time and that I deserve a waiver of penalty.  Mister Credit Card Service Man goes on to say, "I hear it's hot down there (in the deep south)."  I was thinking to myself ... OMG, he speaks southern with an indistinguishable accent.  Happy that the smooth talker speaks my language, I sweetly say, "Oh yeah, its hot."  He asked. "How hot is it?"  I said, "I hear the heat index is around 110."  He asked, "Dry heat or humid?"  I said, "All we know is humidity.  But this year, humidity is sharing drenching sweat, not drenching rains, and our lush landscape is under siege."  He commiserated further and we finished business to my complete satisfaction.

Later, I wanted to tape an article I had cut from the newspaper to another piece of paper, so I laid the article and paper on my desk and looked around for my tape dispenser.  Hmmm ... where is that tape dispenser?  Did someone borrow it?  Did I stick it in the drawer?  Did I carry it to another room?  Is it under something?  I searched high and low, walked to and fro, fretted, blamed its disappearance on another.  And then, lo and behold, I spotted it quietly resting beside the article which was waiting to be taped down on the paper.  What the hell?  Now, I know I will never make a very discerning witness during a robbery, nor will I ever win a prize based on knowing what anyone around me is wearing at the beginning, middle or end of the day, and I know beyond doubt that I will never spot a new planet in our solar system, but I'm NOT LEGALLY BLIND.

House Rules: Any and all passersby, stalkers and the like, can post comments under "lurker comments." They will be screened for hexes, spells, foils, curses, foul smells and cooties before posting.