Return to Sender

Sometimes opening mail isn't the joy I long for it to be. Most days I am anxious to open my mailbox, hopeful that someone who has affection for me has sent some sort of love note or trinket or card that simply states "You are my everything." Is that too much to ask? Heh. Yesterday, my box was stuffed to the gills with envelopes- all of which disappointed me. Belated Christmas card. Life insurance offer. Columbia House threatening to send me to collections because I didn't order enough over-priced dvds to suit them. My Comcast bill. . .let's stop there because it's Comcast that deserves my wrath.

How is that Comcast can so consistently piss me off yet so inconsistently provide me service? Oh right. I get it. I swear they are vying for a tie with Bank of America on my most hated list. My recent bill shows a jump in price for internet and cable- it's now double what I have paid monthly for 5 months. Double! With no warning, I might add. I hate you Comcast. Hate. You vile monsters. I might as well get a land line at the rate they are charging. It would actually be cheaper if I had all three services instead of just the two. That's how they operate.

Why can't they just give me one price and be done with it? I don't want to remember when my "special deal" is going to expire. I don't want to have to call asinine customer service and inquire into new deals and switch everything. It was fine the way it was! Hmphf!

This news sent me into such despair that, unbeknownst to me, I ate half a bag of reduced fat cheese crunchies from Trader Joe's while reading over the fine print of the bill. I think they might have been stale too. Awesome.