I picked up a can of that compressed air spray to clean my wireless computer keyboard. What the heck, it was $1.99, a bargain.
Got it home, couldn’t wait to spray out months worth of dust and cookie crumbs. Being a professional writer (ahem, yes I am calling myself that now!) I am particular about the tools of my trade. I always use a wireless mouse and keyboard. I find the wired models
too damned annoying too confining for my creative soul. Not cheap, but I don’t mind buying nice stuff for my work. If I were a professional skateboarder I wouldn’t buy my skateboard at Toys R Us.
Also being a professional procrastinator/snacker, I have been known to eat a cookie or five while I work. I generally go through a wireless keyboard every six to nine months. Maybe this is why.
After the spray treatment, some dust and crumbs were released. Sadly, still more now remain permanently lodged underneath my shift key, my space bar my “W” key, etc., causing them to just plain not work at all. Spraying more air only sends the gunk farther in, like a gung ho commando team. Irreparable damage and endless frustration for me as work does not get done. Only one solution —
That $1.99 bottle of air just cost me $59.99 for a new keyboard!
by: Jennifer Poure
For Christmas, we decided to get Frick and Frack a dog. DH always talked about how he grew up with pets and wanted the kids to have the same experience. I, on the other hand, was hesitant. All the chores and responsibilities that come along with a pet, and also to mention the financial burden. Yes, puppies are cute and kittens are sweet, but the training, the money, the picking up, the money, the cleaning up, the money, the headache, the money, the time, the money – it’s just not cute (shameless plug for our teen website – http://www.itsjustnotcute.com)!
We decide to adopt because
I can not even conceive the notion of paying hundreds of dollars on an animal that I am going to have to pick up their sh*t there are a lot of dogs out there that need a good home.
While DH and the kids took to caring and being responsible for the dog right away. All I thought about was how much this dog is costing this family that is negative one income.
Adoption – $100
New Crate and Bed – 120
First office visit – 34.95
Rabies virus – 15.95
Pet & Client Service – 30
Medical Waste Disposal Fee 5.00
Tapeworm Visit 150.00
Flea medicine/tablet 30.00
Puppy Food – 30.00 (because Purina Puppy Chow is not good enough; NOOOOO, DH has to go and get fancy, schmancy, organic can-only-buy-it-at-Pet Smart puppy food)
This is not a Master Card commercial where in the end I am going to say, “Seeing the joy of my children playing with their new pet – priceless”. The price for the first month of this puppy was over $500.
If you are wondering what is the name of the puppy, everyone in the house calls him Audi; I personally have named him NAT D. Poure ( NOT A TAXABLE DEPENDENT).
Deborah Dephicit responds:
As I have always advised you with your children, no one is too young or too naive to start paying their own way. Get him an agent and book him a Purina commercial and soon you will be turning a doggie profit!
Two years later, hundreds of applications, 3 call backs, 1 phone interview, 1 face-to-face interview – I finally landed a job!
I LOVE, LOVE, LOVE everything about the job. I like the company, their mission statement, my bosses, everything! I have an office. A private office (no windows but it’s no cubicle either)!
DH and I are very excited. I told him about my great perks (and The Pointer Sisters are playing). He asked about the salary ( and now the iPod freezes).
“Seriously! Must you take your pay for non-profit so literally and figuratively?”
Whatever. I don’t care. I was employed.
On the 3rd year anniversary of learning that due to county budget cuts my position as a teacher will be eliminated, I received an email from my program director stating that due to federal budget cuts my program will be eliminated come September 30, 2011.
(sigh) I check my phone.
(SMILE) YES!!! I still have unemployment on speed dial.
by: Deborah Dephicit
My niece has the right attitude and she’s six years old. The other day my sister and I, upon hearing that the Megamillions jackpot had topped $100 million, rushed immediately to 7-11 to buy tickets.
My sister and I each bought separate tickets and we thought it would be fun for the kids to help us pick out the numbers. (Do I hear a Parent of the Year award headed our way?) My sister said something about, “If we win…..” I told them all, “No, that is not the winning attitude. You’ve got to say when we win. Think like a winner.”
I told my niece and nephew, “When I win I will give each of you a million dollars.” My niece took my advice to a whole different level. She said, “No, Aunt Debbie, when we win we will give you a million dollars.” All righty then!
My nephew (aged five), however, comes from different stock. We like to call it, “his father’s side of the family.” When I told him I would give him a million dollars when I won he said, “Well actually Aunt Debbie, can you just give me a little bit of money? I don’t think my wallet has that much room.”
My sister said, “We’ll find the room!”
Jennifer Poure responds:
You know how I feel about the lotto. Every weekend I played it and every Monday I had not made the trip to the state capital to collect my winnings! Therefore, I no longer play the lotto. I have realized that I do not need the luck of the lotto to make my millions, I HAVE SKILLS!
One day while at work(I remember those days), I got really sick. I mean really sick! I was literally lying on the cold, dirty, “I might catch an STD” tiled floor. I thought the pain would soon pass but it kept getting stronger and I thought my appendix would burst.
Anyway, two of my colleagues were getting worried and they called my boss so he could put in his two cents on the situation. Explain me to me how a high school principal with 30 years of experience in education will be able to determine what my prognosis would be. I don’t know, maybe catching all the episodes of General Hospital along with Dr. Oz on Oprah, he may have picked up a few things.
And correct I am! He picked up that when dealing with women and their shit, call an ambulance! I did not want that because it seemed embarrassing. Well, he insisted and nobody was going to tell Grand Poobah no. Plus at the same time I am thinking, “this is great. I get to leave work early.” I was also thinking if this would count as workman’s comp being that I got ill in your building full of horny teenagers that probably have spread more STDs than the Good Lord has spread His holy word (yes, spiritual Jennifer comes out of hiding every once in a while).
Back to the drama. Well, the ambulance was called and I was hauled away to one of Aisulov County’s finest hospitals. I was admitted and they started asking all these questions. Keep in mind that I swore I was dying and would really just have liked to get into the O.R. and have Geroge Clooney remove whatever is calling all this pain, but the first rule of hospital etiquette is “make money at all costs.” Oh, because you thought they were asking me medical questions? Oh no, it was more like “are you covered and how much is your deductible?”
The next thing I know my husband came in. He said that he got a call from my job that I was on my way to the hospital. He was worried and scared and I, even in my still as yet unmedicated state, found that endearing. I remembered our vows, in sickness and in health, and realized that they were true.
Weeks later, we get a bill from the hospital. $600 for the ambulance ride and a $6 charge for each mile to cover the cost of gas.
In sickness and health? Yeah, right! As long as it doesn’t cost dear hubby a deductible!
Because gas costs $6 a gallon, right? Any chance to make a buck!
You forgot to mention that you lived and, I think came back to school the next day. Had to make up that $606 somehow, right? Not to mention the clock was ticking on your sick leave. Because that same administrator (Dr. Giggles) who called the ambulance on you, his next stop was at his secretary’s desk telling her to start her stopwatch. (You think you can lie around on the floor and writhe in pain on the school’s time? )
I love my letter carrier. She is actually one of the highlights, if not, my only highlight in Aisulov County. Where is Aisulov County? If “nirvana” is described as, “the perfect state of mind that is free from craving, anger, and other afflicting states,” (thank you dictionary.com) then by all means I do not live in Nirvana. I live in the anti-nirvana.
Anyway, getting back to my letter carrier. Love her dearly but seriously would it hurt to deliver good news once in a while? I mean after we chat and catch up on the neighborhood gossip (which takes all of 3 minutes because my neighbors are far and few in between) she leaves and I then proceed to open and look through my mail. The same usual suspects: insurance bill, electric bill, water bill, credit card bill, you-are-taking-in-too-much-air-when-you-breathe bill. Give me a break! Why can’t it ever be a “we overcharged you on your last bill so here’s a refund” type of statement? No! What I get is (this is a true letter that I got in the mail, paraphrased, of course):
Dear Ms. Poure:
First of all, we would like to say how much we value your business. It is because of you that we are still around.
Unfortunately, upon reviewing your last statement, we noticed that we made a mistake in the amount that is due. Don’t get excited now, the mistake is in our favor. We did not charge the correct amount. We actually undercharged you. Oh, life is funny that way! Anyway this is the difference. Please pay by so and so date so you will not accrue any more outstanding charges.
And once again, thank you for your
I love how the bank messes up and suddenly YOU are under the gun to get them the “missing” money in 48 hours. All you did was pay what they tell you. And on time too!!!!!
This reminds me of the time at work when the payroll clerk (oops!) deposited my wages into the wrong person’s account. And then I got reprimanded for acting “stressed” and bumming everyone else out! I’m sorry, was I supposed to be dancing while thinking about the fact that I now have no money to pay my bills? Oops, my bad!
It seems like the people with the money always have the power, even when it’s your money!
P.S. Will the person who received my $556 in their bank account please return it asap. Please have it to me by three days ago or there will be a 35.00 late fee assessed. I realize this is completely not your fault and that you don’t even work for the same company as me, but I am unable to discuss this further. Please call (888) FIND ME1 for a recorded message that will be of no help whatsover.
A couple of weeks ago we (the family) went out to eat at a restaurant. We chose this particular restaurant because we had gift cards for it. These days the only way we are going to eat out would be if A) we have a gift card or gift certificate (gift certificates rarely work on take-out orders) or B) my parents are buying. We got our gift cards by donating blood. Donating blood is one of the greatest gifts that one can give that does not cost a thing. Knowing that your one pint of blood could save three lives is so rewarding (and the gift cards are a nice
Anyway, after eating our meals we were ready for dessert. Our server was gathering our plates when I noticed that offspring A still had some food ( 2 spoonfuls of macaroni and cheese and a couple of french fries) on the plate. This is the conversation that followed:
Me: Could you please bring me a box?
Server: Sure, what for?
Me: For offspring’s A leftovers.
Server: Are you serious?
Server: (little more than a slight sarcastic tone) Would you also like ketchup for the 2 fries?
Me: (my most pleasant tone and the nicest smile plastered on my face) Yes. By the way, you just cut your tip in half and we won’t be needing dessert.
Had this been 5 years ago, I would have thrown the leftovers away and not cared. But times are rough – want not, waste not!
The other time when you have to get a doggy bag is when the food is simply to good to throw away. I just finished a gourmet-quality lunch at a really nice restaurant. (It was a birthday celebration and, no, I was not paying because, hello? I’m poor too.)
Not only did I have them bag up my leftover pasta, fish, vegetables and potatoes, but I also asked (in that polite way that says, “No, is not an acceptable answer here,”) if they had a little teeny container for the remains of the delicous olive tapenade they served with the bread. I’m sorry but that stuff so good it would have been criminal to leave it behind. And you know I then had to get the bread from the bread basket wrapped as well because I needed something to spread my tapenade on at home! (It’s not like they can serve it again, right?)
As far as your rude server, he should have been MUCH more kind. In this economy you could end up working right along side him (probably pay rise) and then he would have to deal with your wrath on a daily basis!