This morning I was humming Dean Martin's "Return to Me" as I stood outside Caffe Artigiano. I was preoccupied because I was worried that I had left my iron on at home. Thankfully, a dear fellow chose not to ignore my desperate phone calls and agreed to run me home so I could check. I jumped into his car and guess what was playing on the radio. That's right! And you know what was even weirder is that both me and Dean were on the same verse of the song. Freaky deaky. I thought maybe such a moment of synchronicity might mean good things for me today. Not so much.
I did receive a new phone in the mail - a fantastic gift from a friend overseas. It's a Nokia 6600 and it does nifty things. After much running around I finally got soaked for $50 in exchange for a North American charger and I was ready to make some magic... BUT of course, dealing with Fido is a complete nightmare. I have a very cool phone sitting in front of me and I can't do a fucking thing with it until those cock-knockers at Fido hook me up.
I have been on hold for... 67 minutes and 17 seconds. I have the bastards on speakerphone. They're very sorry for the delay but due to unexpected blah, blah blah. They sure would like for me to remain on the line to retain my call priority. A rude French-Canadian will be with me shortly to give me the run-around. Neat.
I still don't know if I have a job. The woman I'm subletting from called to let me know that she's coming back - possibly early. Imminent homelessness, unemployment and phonelessness. I've been doing some hard traveling, I thought you knowed.
***update: 80 minutes, 20 seconds and counting.