I've misplaced a bill from the Drive-By Doc-In-A-Box. I think it was already overdue. You'll excuse me if I don't post much until I found it? --And finished breakfast?
There is this about waking slowly: you do have occasional moments of sheer panic as the previous day's unfinished business seeps slowly into your awareness. It's a bug, not a feature.
Update: The savages! They have no way to pay it online! Dear merciful heavens, do I have to write and mail a check, like some kind of animal? I'll call them, or -- if they haven't quite made it out of the 19th Century -- telegraph. Gads.
Mind you, in the late 19th Century, the mail arrived -- and went out -- twice a day. Western Union wired cash anywhere, not just for scams; in fact, their system was foolproof for the time. I could probably have hired a boy on a bicycle to deliver a check in a sealed envelope and bring back a receipt. But it's 2015! These people could have a robot looking at the Internet and accepting payments 24/7/365. Instead, I just called their office, at 8:06 a.m., only to have a much dumber robot tell me to call back later, between the hours of eight a.m. and seven p.m. Um, sure. Right. I may be dealing with bears with thumbs. Since this is a medical firm, I find the concept appalling.
T. R. MCELROY'S STREAMLINED TELEGRAPH KEYS
1 year ago