Friday Night Rant – Mercury Retrograde

Back by popular demand, it’s my Friday night Rant!

 

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It’s been a pretty stupid week doing dumb things, losing things like keys and phones and ID cards.

 

But one incident topped the cake.

My daughter moved back to Florida from Virginia and is now living with us. Two weeks ago we went to the auto tag agency to re-register her car in Florida.

The tag agency gave us two forms to complete. One was to go to the finance company so they could send a copy of the lien and title to Auto Tag Agency. The second was verifying the VIN number – to be done by the police department.

We got everything done and sent off the forms. A week passed and we’d heard nothing. I called the finance company (I am the owner of the car) and they said they were waiting for the state of Virginia to respond to their inquiry.

Another week went by and I called the finance company again. They had me on hold for 15 minutes at a time while supervisors got involved. They came back and said the title was already registered in Florida where we bought the car in the first place and all we had to do was go to the Auto Tag agency with proof of insurance and get it registered. AAAARRRGGGHH!

It was a Friday so we headed down to the tag agency with the papers. At least 25 people were in there, some in chairs, some standing at one of the windows. There were no signs indicating where you should go first or where to form a line or take a number – nothing.

 

So we sat down. We studied the people, then figured out that the first window was where the line began. So we joined in line. The couple ahead of us took 10 minutes to be served. We stepped up. We explained the situation, the clerk checked her computer. She said that the records indicated that the registration was never renewed so there were back taxes to pay.

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What were we supposed to have done? we asked. Turn in the plate she said. Is that stated anywhere on any paperwork? No. (I still have my Maryland plate from my ’67 Dodge Dart.)

My daughter luckily had her old Florida plate with her so she got it out of the car and came back. The clerk, after helping another couple stated that the car already had a plate. She showed us her computer screen. I showed her the Florida plate we’d just brought in. IT’S THIS PLATE! I said, very calmly, ahem.

 

Oh, ha-ha the clerk said, then tried to bring up the amount we had to pay for registration. She asked us if we wanted one year or two. We said two. She asked us to step aside because her colleague in the back office was going to handle it. We waited 20 minutes. I then asked for a status and was told the colleague was on the phone with Tallahassee. We waited another 15 minutes, sweating because it was warm in the building.

 

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I asked again how much longer we’d have to wait – pointing out we’d already been waiting 45 minutes. The window clerk said her colleague was still on the phone and we would JUST HAVE TO WAIT.

No, she wasn’t yelling, but she was firm. Another 10 minutes went by. Then she said we could pay for one year’s registration instead of the two years like we wanted in order to leave right away. (Why didn’t she say that in the first place?) I paid it, we got the registration sticker and got out of there.

 

By the way, only when you got to the cashier window did we see a sign saying they only accept cash or check, no credit cards, AND they charge a 2% surcharge on all checks. Growl.

 

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Another day I went to a thrift store to donate some items from my closet – women’s stuff, including a wedding dress. I realized it would take several trips to get everything loaded, so I took the car key off my key ring so that I could turn on the engine and get the air-conditioning running.

 

When I was finished loading the car I reached into my pocket for the house keys to lock the door and came up empty. I went into the house and couldn’t find them anywhere. I checked all around the garage and even checked the trunk and the boxes I’d just put in there. Nothing. So I got into the now-cool car, closed the garage and took off for the thrift store.

 

The thrift store was about 15 miles away and I’d never been there. I’d punched in the address into Google Maps and the navigation lady directed me. When I pulled into the shopping center indicated, the store was nowhere to be found. Turned out they’d moved but hadn’t changed the address on their website. Grrrrr!

So I call the number, got the new address and bring by goods in, got a receipt, and as I was leaving the woman at the counter said people usually come to the back door to drop off donations. Not a word of thanks or appreciation. Humpf.

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4-year-old printer equals 400 in printer years…

When I got home, I renewed my search for my house keys. Reached into my jeans pocket again and there they were. Now Come On!!! St. Anthony must have been playing tricks.

 

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Last week our vacuum cleaner stopped picking up. The power assist wasn’t working, which meant you had to SHOVE it across the carpet. After taking the cover off, it was plain that in order to get to replace the power assist belt, you had to take the entire thing apart. Lovely.

Then our wireless printer stopped working. When I opened it up, there were huge globs of ink inside – none was going onto the paper. My husband said, rather than try and fix a 4 year old printer, let’s get a new one.

 

So I know what I’ll be setting up this weekend.

 

So what did I learn from all this stuff? Don’t try to get anything done during a full moon or Mercury Retrograde! If you don’t know about Mercury, here’s a link. People swear by this stuff!

 

 

Have a great weekend!

 

 

Christy24047392612_8d47ed77ae_m

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