I decided to run errands and do a bit of Christmas shopping tonight, instead of going to the gym, since my thighs and ass are ridiculously sore after the shoveling, pushing, slipping and then working out on top of all that. I'm kind of amazed I can walk at all.
First of all, I made a visit to a new shop in my neighborhood that I saw last night on my alternate route home (commute dropped from 90 minutes to 30 last night!). It's called Belle Weather, and it is awesome. I bought a bracelet for my aunt and a couple of items for The Boy I Currently Like. I told him about them when he called earlier, so I can't now decide to keep them for myself, even though I totally want them SO BAD. There are many items with curse words on them. 'Nuff said.
So, I did some dishes and made some potatoes for my lunch the next two days. Then I decided to wrap the presents I have (including SILTB's shower present -- more on that shit later. Like, another day later).
On Friday last week, I had to go to the Post Office to pick up THREE packages. While I was waiting in line (FOREVER ... thanks dude who finally came up to ask if anyone was just picking up packages when I was next in line and had been waiting in line for 20 minutes), I could see I had two boxes of similar size from Amazon. The item I'd purchased for The Boy didn't seem like it would take two boxes, but what did I know?
I opened the box when I got home, but didn't look at it too clearly. It looked like it was supposed to come to me. Tonight, though, I finally pulled everything out of boxes and layers and layers of plastic and realized that one of those boxes held something I didn't order. This was confirmed by looking at the packing slip that said The Three Stooges Collection was supposed to go to a dude in Pittsburgh. Also, he ordered it six days before I ordered my item.
Have you ever tried to get some fucking help from Amazon? It's a nightmare. Okay, that might be an exaggeration, but it's certainly not easy. I just want a fucking "Contact Us" link, or a "Customer Service" button. But I had to go looking for that fucking shit. I'm still not sure I got a message to someone who will tell me what the fuck to do with this Three Stooges box set.
If they don't get back to me within 12 or 24 hours (they say 12) ... well, what do I do? Just give it to my dad? He'd probably enjoy it.
Okay, so I've been e-mailing for a while, apparently. I'm just going to end this here. Sorry for not editing/making sense!