TGIF

Phone rings this evening at six pm. The technician coming tomorrow between eight in the morning and noon has called to let me know that he needs written permission to install the satellite dish from our landlords. The rental office is, of course, closed, and I haven't the faintest idea if they'll be open tomorrow. Why do companies have to be such morons? Why didn't they tell us that when the appointment was made? Does it even make sense to expect that I'm sitting around with written permission to do such a thing without having been informed of the requirement? Does it make sense to expect me to obtain a written notice from my landlord between the hours of six pm Friday and eight am Saturday? Why does no one live in the real world anymore?

M reminds me that if it doesn't get done tomorrow, there's always next Saturday, but I am not consoled because I'm tired of having all these Things up in the air. Although I am jonesing for FoodTV, yes, I'm more concerned with crossing it off our to-do list. It's the simple stuff in life that make me happy.