The picture below has nothing to do with this post. Just stare at it a minute. I love it with "my whole haht", as my 3-year-old would say. This tub of butter is a distant, distant cousin of "I Can't Believe It's Not Butter". Word on the grocery aisle is that he has a brother named "You think I'm butter? You must be crazy, fool!" that hasn't been accepted in grocery stores anywhere. Such a shame. It's caused A LOT of friction within the fake butter families. Fighting within a family is always ugly, whether it is a within a human family or a butter tub family. Remember that.
Paige Kellerman's words. They're really far from ugly. The opposite of ugly is beautiful, I guess, and that would not be the term I'd choose to describe Paige Kellerman's words on her blog There's More Where That Came From either. I mean, beautiful sounds all sentimental-ly. I'd choose funny. Or funnylicious. (I just made up that word and I'm so annoyed with it already.)
Paige is funny. I like her blog. It makes me smile every time. I like her style. I like her name ("Paige" is a pretty name, right?). I like her blog layout. AND I like that she wanted to hang in the Break Room today.
I'm letting myself out the door now. I'm up to here with drinking Coke all the time (fingers crossed that Paige stocks that gigantic vending machine up there with something else, like Big Red), so I have an urgent appointment at the Starbucks window in five minutes. I just mustn't be late!
Thanks for taking over the janitorial duties today, Paige!
First off, I don’t know if you guys realize this, but the Break Room is a lot bigger than Kelley makes it out to be. Once I maneuvered my pregnant self through the door, I was delighted to see she even has a flat screen in here that only plays HGTV.
Unfortunately, being in the Break Room is a privilege I only get if I restock the Skittles. Oh, and clean out the microwaves. Did you know she has seven of them in here?
But then I said, “I don’t want to clean the microwaves.”
And she was all like, “You better. Here’s a cleaning solution I mixed up off of Pinterest. This place better smell like vinegar and sea salt in an hour.”
But, really I can’t complain. Scraping old Healthy Choice "Chicken Medley" out of these boxes isn’t nearly as bad as paying my cable bill last night. Normally I don’t bother paying bills, but if I didn’t pay this one, they’d shut the whole thing off and I’d never find out if Kelly Ripa was wearing a size two yet, or whether Christina Aguilera had finally eaten the entire cast of The Voice.
So I called. Well, back up. Before I called, I made sure I picked a time when both my twins were awake, and one of them was holding onto my right ankle. My mother always taught me to do things the hard way. She’d say, “Paige, always do things the hard way.” And it was in this fashion that I proceeded to call the cable company on the day said bill was due.
“Thank you for calling Standard Cable At Exorbitant Prices. Press one if a cat is stuck in your cable dish. Press two for billing and payments. Press three...”
*Sounds of me pressing two*
A bionic Martha Stewart answered. “Thank you for choosing to pay your bill this month. Please say “yes” if you’d like to pay your balance now. It’s a good thing.”
It’s important to note here that I hate voice recognition systems. Not because I hate talking to a machine. On the contrary, I love telling the refrigerator about my day. But because they never seem to get what I said right.
“Yes,” I yelled over my toddler.
“Okay. Would you like to use Visa, Mastercard, or barter something you don’t need anymore?”
“Was that “Visa”? Our system heard, “Get off my ankle or I’m selling you back to the hospital.” Is that correct?”
“No, I said 'Visa'.”
My son, sensing I was getting somewhere with the transaction, began screaming for his father. The woman popped back on. “I’m sorry, 'Go find your daddy is not an option. I don’t have a daddy. I’m a robot.'”
My forehead hit the wall. “I said Visa. Viiiiiisaaaa.”
“I’m sorry, 'pizza' is not an option. I’ll transfer you to a representative.”
While I waited for a rep, I took the time to look for a nice family who wanted to adopt a small boy.
“Hello, this is Marsha. How can I help you?”
“Hi, Marsha. Just looking to pay this bill. You don’t happen to accept tokens from Chuck E. Cheese, do you?”
“Actually, ma'am, the system says you were looking for your daddy.”
“Nope, just wanting to pay my bill. I know where my father is.”
“Are you sure there isn’t a cat stuck in your cable dish?”
“Because there would’ve been a searing sound punctuated by a few staccato meows.”
“Did you know you can pay your bill with the automated system?”
“I did know that.”
“Ma'am, did you also know that you can press seven and hear whether Christina’s eaten the cast of The Voice or not?"
Satisfied, I hung up and looked at my son. “You were a lot of help.”
He smiled and waddled out of the room.
So, if I’ve learned anything, it’s to wait to pay the bills when the kids are sleeping. And to go check on the neighbor’s cat.
Anyway, I’ve got to get back to these microwaves. You all have a great day.