Saturday, June 30, 2007

Some Days It Just Doesn't Pay...

In the span of two work days last week, I decided I need, perhaps, more sleep at night. In the course of my work, I sometimes need to copy documents or maps. I often utilize the local Kinko's for this task. Some of the maps I copy are in spiral bound books that are easy to copy. Easy to miss when one leaves the store (this bit of information is important later).

Anyway, I work with my dad and had to stop at his house one morning because the collar of my polo shirt really did need ironing. Yes, I sometimes wear polo shirts. Not that often because I typically do not like them. Yet I was wearing one and it was looking horrid.

SO, I fired up mom's iron and found a little spray starch and wala! Work ready!

The next day I was back at dad's and we were on a phone call when his cell began to ring. LOUD.LOUD.RINGS.

So dad looks at me nods his head and points to the phone. Not having mastered the art of reading body language (and being short on sleep), I interpreted his movements to mean:
"Hey, that ring is annoying. I can't hear a damn thing over here. Go on over there and take care it will you?"

So I went and shut of the cell phone in mid-ring.


OOOOPS.

Turns out dad really meant:
"Hey, can't you see I'm busy here? Geez, I've only got two hands and I am kinda in the middle of a phone call. Go answer that and see who it is and maybe take a message."

After dad informed me of my error he went on to enumurate another failing that had recently occurred. It seems mom came home the day before and found someone had used her iron. She knew this because it had been left on all day. That would be over 8 hours of potential burn time.

OOOOPS.

Then dad gives me a packet that needs to go to a specialist to copy and all I need to do (besides deliver the package) is to copy one of my maps out of one of my books and include it in the package. So I go home and realize I no longer have said book of maps. The next morning, I drive back to dad's (1 hour, 1 one way) and ransack his house and it's not there. But he has the same book of maps so the trip was not wasted. I take the package and drop it off and decide, "What the hell. I'm already out and about, let's go check Kinko's."

The store is only 10 minutes from my house. And the book of maps is there. That means I just wasted over 21/2 hours of my day in drive time alone.

Man, is it after 7pm already? I need to go to bed.

4 comments:

Hannah said...

See? This is why I don't iron. Ever. For any reason. Throw it in the dryer for ten minutes, or act all cool with your wrinkled shirt. Hell, if Richard Branson can get away with looking like he just rolled out of bed, you needn't starch your collars.

Maria said...

You know how to IRON? We have one in our basement. We use it maybe once every five years. But, I do recall my mother with her spray bottle of starch standing at the ironing board every single day. She ironed our sheets, my Da's socks, you name it. And she used to hate every second of it. I know this because she verbalized it. ("I hate all this ironing I have to do for this family!" I should have told her that we didn't need out sheets ironed.)

And, let me just say it: You'd forget your head if it wasn't attached.

There. Now, the part of me that channels my mother on a regular basis is happy.

dennis said...

hannah: unfortunately with shirt collars, it is a compulsion.

maria: LOL

Rebecca said...

I actually LIKE to iron. Sounds like your life is going a little bit like mine lately.