Today I went full O.W.L.
Some people refer to this state as “being a Karen.” I’ve heard some Karens complain that that’s unfair to Karens everywhere. The irony is always wasted in those conversations. While I adore some actual Karens in my life, my issue with the term is not that. My issue is that “Karen” brings to mind a fairly specific phenotype.
Outraged White Lady, however, encompasses all of us in the cohort.
Anyway, I’m responsible for staging a house I have to sell, one that isn’t technically mine but which I’m responsible for anyway. The paperwork involved to rent the bougie furniture required two computers, three browsers, five pages of initials and signatures, my credit card number, name, address (which I’d already entered above as “responsible party”), and then, on the final page was the directive: upload scan of your credit card and license.
“No,” I wrote to the furniture rental person, “I won’t do this much work for rental furniture. I’ve literally bought houses that required less paperwork. I can either call you and give you my credit card, or I can find someone else who’ll temporarily furnish this place for a lot less annoyance.”
After multiple submissive texts, emails, and calls from him, none of which I responded to for hours, I texted him back. He insisted I did not need to send in scans. Regardless, his form would not accept my signature without them.
Here’s what I sent as both my credit card and license photo.
I’m not going to lie - that felt great. I shouldn’t make it a habit, though. Naughty.
I’m overly-grumpy and too slammed to cook right now, but I don’t want take-out all week, so I decided to order from H-Mart via Instacart.
Persimmons. Yup.
Napa cabbage. Scallions. Daikon for salad. Check.
Frozen yummy things that the air fryer will make quick work of. Done.
Let’s check the Prepared Foods aisle.
How is “squid for sushi” prepared food?
Also “Kobe beef for hot pot.”
WTF
I put it all back and ordered a Mexican salad from a place near me.
That is prepared food, people.
Construction has now officially begun on the house in Provincetown. That is the good news.
This is the bad news.
It’s worth mentioning that this is the floor holding up the one above it.
'“Breezy Cape Cod summer home available…”
It’s kind of fun how literally every contractor and tradesperson who looks at the house says, “How is this still standing?”
Through sheer will, apparently.
Morning Teaistisms
My memory’s been terrible lately. I’ve been forgetting words, that I made plans, that I signed up for courses, where I’m supposed to be when. I lost my car in my own driveway yesterday because I forgot I’d parked in the street. I stood at the open, empty garage door looking up and down the driveway waiting for some thought to land that would solve my dilemma. Eventually I realized what was going on. Eventually.
Fishing around in the drawer again I found this “Memory Magic” herbal tea from some place called Biron. It contains organic lemongrass, peppermint, holy basil leaf (apparently I’ve been using godless basil all these years), rosemary, lemon balm, sage, ginkgo biloba, and gonu kola, along with some stevia to ruin any hope of it being good. It’s a little like confused turkey stuffing tea.
I have no idea where it came from, so its effectiveness is in question.
However, in finding it I also remembered that I had lemon Oreo thins in the pantry cabinet next to the tea drawer, and that was just by touching the package, before even drinking the tea. I should leave them a review.
Anyone who won't accept a beagle for credit is a charlatan and should not be trusted. I will be borrowing this picture for my medical portal as I am currently (and very sadly) without a dog. I hope they can pick me out in the waiting room.
The godless basil line really got me 😂