These are the sorts of days I'm talking about!
It's the plethora of dumb, ongoing problems that involve phone calls and emails and correcting other people's work. This is the sort of thing that drives me berserk.
The guy handling the daughter's college account (which just had to be changed up) didn't quite do his homework up front. That was one phone call.
The son's school once again neglected to bill me for transportation for the coming year. Fortunately, I caught the error before he showed up at the bus stop on the first day of school expecting to be taken away. That was two phone calls.
The son's AP Bio teacher decided that in the coming year, the kids would be using a textbook that is out of print. I have a lot of experience in buying used books-- some of my jobs have required that particular expertise--so I'm well versed in appropriate grading by real booksellers. Well, anyone can sell books in these Internet days, and I've already sent one copy back (graded "good," but actually not even "acceptable" as the binding was hanging by duct tape threads and not a page was unmarked). The second copy I ordered became mysteriously unavailable while we were on vacation, and I've just ordered a third copy, which better be the charm.
Driving lessons. Dear God. When I was in high school, driver's ed was part of the high school curriculum. No more. One must find a state-accredited driving school to provide 30 hours of classroom instruction plus behind-the-wheel training. This is supposedly non-negotiable, but I can't believe that half the drivers I see here ever completed any of this stuff. Out of exhaustion, I finally turned over the choice of school to the spouse, but I still have to fill out the paperwork for the actual classes.
And paperwork? I did all the forms for the coming school year today, too. Last year, the son's school lost his emergency card even though it had been mailed to them in timely fashion (and thus, they decided not to give him his schedule until one of us showed up at the school, miles and miles from here, at which point they'd found it again), so I've photocopied his paperwork so he can wave it at them when they invariably lose it again.
Shall I go on? No, I shan't. It's too gruesome. Too exasperating. This is the sort of nonsense that inhales my days. Along with orthodontists and wisdom tooth removal and and and... Still, while I'm annoyed by all this, I've managed to maintain a (mostly) positive outlook.
Small potatoes, I tell myself.
I know what I want, I remind myself.
I realize what I can't live without.
And a whisper.
It's not a done deal, but I've just about sealed it.
Go listen to some good music: "Daylight" from the album A Rush of Blood to the Head by Coldplay. Forward. Really. Forward.