At the risk of sounding like an arrogant tw*t, I am compelled to say that I am astounded by the dumbassery that surrounds me. Perhaps I'll never live to be 100, because it's the little things that completely make me MENTAL. My dad just popped in to give me a letter that came to his house telling me I HAVE to fill out a questionnaire, because I am a prospective jury duty candidate.
So, what's the big deal, you ask? They addressed it to karen somethingorother at my PARENTS' ADDRESS. I haven't lived there for 10 years. Okay, that part's bad enough, but here's the real kick in the pants:
The last week before I moved from Suburban Hell, I received a letter in the mail: SUMMONS TO JUROR. I was nearly out of my mind with the stress of packing, and taking care of the kids on my own, because The Man was at a company-wide work conference at DISNEYWORLD*. I was completely wiped out, trying frantically to organise the last of our stuff, as The Man wouldn't be returning until the NIGHT BEFORE WE MOVED. Then, this idiotic summons arrived. I nearly cried. No wait, this is me we're talking about--I did cry. So, I had to write this letter explaining why I was ineligible, with proof attached, etc. The proof I sent was my freaking BILL OF SALE COMPLETE WITH ADDRESS for my new house. Fine, fine, I was excused from jury duty.
And now THIS NEW LETTER, SENT TO MY OLD ADDRESS--do we NOT live in the age of computers?!?!? Do I not pay taxes??? Remember when I moved, and I had to fill out all those change of address forms for my various ID related cards? Health Card? Driver's License? Etc, etc.
This kind of stuff drives me completely bananas. As The Man calmly works away on his laptop, I'm stomping around the house, nearly apoplectic with rage, growling:
THERE'S NO HOPE IN THE WORLD.
* yeah, how do you like the idea that while I was vacuuming cobwebs from the basement ceiling, and wrapping, oh, everything in bubble wrap, The Man emailed me from Disneyworld one day to tell me that while they did work most of the time, one day was really "cool" because they had reserved one ride JUST for employees where he worked. Yeah. He soon realised that I wasn't receptive to any Disney anecdotes.