First Person Singular by Wendy Braitman

filed in Daily Life

I Need a Massage

September 16, 2009 ⋅  Email This Post ⋅  Print This Post ⋅ Post a comment

Here’s how my day started: At 5  AM, I was awakened by a high-pitched beeping, not continuously, but every 10 minutes or so, with just enough time in between for me to wonder, “do I have to get up for this?” Rose, who is usually impervious to loud noises, went whimpering under the bed.

I was never concerned about an intruder, more likely the alarm system was malfunctioning. I threw on some clothes, with no hope of going back to sleep. I couldn’t find the instruction manual, and kept punching the code into the alarm keypad. 45 minutes later, the noise stopped. And since I was already in a foul mood (and it was 9 AM on the East Coast), it seemed the perfect time to phone the IRS in search of a refund I should’ve received a month ago. After 50 full minutes on hold, I got a live person, who apologized, not for the wait, but because she hadn’t been trained on the form I’d filed, and would have a supervisor call me later in the day. (Yeah, like that’s gonna happen.) To round out the morning, I checked my prospects on Match.com.

Calgon, take me away.

Late update: The beeping is back, the IRS supervisor returned my call, and no match on Match.

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