10/05/2004

So frustrated. I'm not sure how one gets an ulcer, but I feel like I may be on my way to one...

So, I could have had Internet today. I could have. Instead, I decided, on a hunch, to call up the Internet company to see what's going on. It's not officially supposed to start till Oct. 7. Okay, well, after being on hold for 20 minutes (visualize the money draining away...), I finally reach a human being who tells me, oh boy! it's all set up. I have Internet access. One petite problem. I have no modem yet. F*ck.

Yeah, so, apparently, the modem was sent here in the name of that former student who lived here. Why? WHY not in the freakin' name of the owner of the place? I will never freakin' know. So, yeah, since she doesn't live here, most obviously, it was sent back a billion miles away to their central post office. Again, why there and not nearby somewhere? I have no clue. (Stomach acids turning as I type this...). Anyway, I was on the phone with this lady who was telling me where the post office is, how to go pick up the modem today if I wanted, etc...when! the line disconnects!!! IT WASN'T ME.

Nope, she didn't call me back. I had to call again, wait on hold for 20 more minutes--after being disconnected automatically by the machine 5-6 times (which is normal here, if you have to be on hold, usually you don't even get that privilege. I finally spoke with another lady who told me that I could not (for some reason) pick it up but they would resend it to me, now under my landlord's name too. The package will take a WEEK at least. I personally would prefer the 1.5 hour trip to get it myself today. Damn IT ALL.

So, I go down to talk to the concierge guy and explain to him that a package is coming, not in my name, but in the name of some student who lived here a couple years later and in the name of my landlord...but that it's really my package. Oh yeah, all in French--bien sur. Anyway, I think the concierge was ready to kill me by the time I was done. If I don't get to me first, perhaps he will.

I was so freaking pissed off I left my building to walk over to this Internet place, with just a shirt on--no jacket, nada, in the nice drizzly, overcast, morning. Everyone else was in big coats and scarfs. I didn't feel a damn thing, in fact, my hands were even warm. I was fuming. I am fuming.

Imagine, I could have had it today. G-d I am so mad.

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