Sun Sextile Mars

So I check messages on the land line yesterday and there's a call from Canada Medicine shop telling me there's a discrepancy on my order. Thinking they're going to tell me they don't have a current prescription when I mailed them one three months ago,  I go through all the Press One Press Two and am ready to tell them as politely as possible just how incompetent I think they are when a human voice tells me my usual order is for one 20 mg. Celexa once a day but the new prescription is for 10 mg. tablets so I will have to take two.

I've been taking two 10 mg. tablets once a day as long as I've been taking Celexa but keep my trap shut and say thank you, I should be able to manage that, just get the fucking order shipped for chrissake, last eight words spoken to self in head.

Next call is to landlord's attorney giving him what I'm sure will be my final counter-offer, saying I'll be out by the first weekend in June and does he have a cardboard box I can borrow.

Then we move on to Citibank to tell them about the three unauthorized charges on my credit card, resulting in yet another new card which supposedly will be arriving for me today. (Note to self: list all automatic monthly payments using old card. Try to change all to new card number before next hacking.)

Now it's the Assessor's Office in Silver to query the valuation of the acreage Bank of America and I own together; eighteen thousand a pop for a load of old rocks, native cacti I can no longer remember the names of because I've been away so long and assorted animal carcasses and skeletons seems a bit steep.

"It's based on the value of the land when you bought the property," I'm told, and I have until five p.m. today to file a dispute, if I so desire. As they seem to think the house itself is worth $54,000 and I'm taxed accordingly, I'm inclined to let that one alone and be thankful for another 500 air miles.

Last on the list of phone calls is Apple, the Irving Thalberg of the NASDAQ. Without mentioning that it all started when Star Child scraped her fingernail over Tinky Winky and Dipsy when they were making Tubby Tustard, I tell them the screen on my MacBook Air looks as though it's leaking blue ink (technical explanation). Mr. Apple Care tells me I'll have to make an appointment to take the patient in for diagnosis, and I tell him as soon as I know where I live I'll do that.

The post above comes to you courtesy of Mercury conjunct the Sun later this afternoon.