Sunday, May 25, 2008

Where Am I Supposed to Send Things

One of the many things that I neglected to consider prior to giving notice at my job was where in the hell I will now get my packages sent. When I quit my job, my co-workers were like, "How are you going to have money to live?" because they were obviously unaware of my VERY large ING nest egg, so I told them that I planned to live off the fat of the land and subsistence farm and can fruit for the long winter ahead.

And frankly who cares about food - the real problem here is the following: a) I will no longer have a confirmed shipping address on ebay so I will no longer be able to buy shoes so I'll have to wear the ones I already have which is unacceptable, b) I will no longer be able to buy clothes online so I'll have to wear the horrible rags that are already in my closet which is unacceptable, c) I will not be able to order things from Amazon so I won't be able to read books for the next few months and my sharp wit, vocabulary and cocktail party knowledge will go into decline and my charm and womanly wiles will diminish, d) I will no longer be able to order all my medication 3 months at a time in advance so when I finish up this vial of Lexapro and can't get anymore there may or may not be a disaster, and e) I will no longer be able to put items in my shopping cart on various sites and then email people my "wish list" and tell them that I wish they'd be a good friend for once and buy it for me or else. I mean, this isn't a COMPLETE disaster because it's not like I'm getting deliveries of ProActiv every 8 weeks in order to keep my pizza face at bay, but still.

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