I got up at 12:30 and was at the bank by 1 PM!
I waited THIRTY F-ING MINUTES to see a banker, because apparently they had ONE F-ING PERSONAL BANKER WORKING! WTF!!!
It took me 50 minutes to get out of the bank, for crying out loud!
So--that finished--I go next to the post office to make sure my envelope has enough postage on it and to get it postmarked. This is quite literally a 15-second operation.
FOR WHICH I HAD TO WAIT FIFTEEN FUCKIN' MINUTES. Because there is one teller window open and she is occupied with applying some $10 worth of postage to several large-format envelopes for a customer. Okay, I get that they had to be weighed (because they were outsized) but WHY WAS THERE ONLY ONE TELLER? Other than the fact that f-ing USPS is run by a bunch of slack-jawed asshammers?
But it wasn't just the guy with the envelopes; no. The woman in front of me wanted a single book of stamps, was paying with her debit card, and apparently didn't know how the hell to do that.
So after all that bullshit I get my business taken care of IN FIFTEEN FUCKIN' SECONDS and leave the PO. Get back on the bike and ride out to the hardware store at THIRTY-FIVE IN A FIFTY ZONE BECAUSE I'M BEHIND A FUCKING RETARD.
Get there, go inside, brush off the offers of help (a touch rudely) because the last thing I want to put up with is more f-ing customer service--
...and once I'm looking at the doorbell buttons I realize that I forgot to ask the banker to give me a couple twenties' worth of my withdrawal in cash so that I could, you know, buy things. But it's okay! I've got my debit card! ...and so I pick up the doorbell button I came there for, and a couple light bulbs for the stove because I know I need them anyway.
Get back on the bike, go home, install doorbell button--more on that in a moment--and then I get back on the bike again to go get some cash from the ATM and then a couple of slodge burger from McDonald's.
"Hey!" Think I, "instead of going back to the bank I was just at, why don't I go to the one in Steger? That way I get to ride under the viaduct through that nifty S-turn which is fun to ride through at 35 MPH! And just from that you know what happened, don't you? Of course you do!
I get behind a MORON! who can't take that turn faster than 25 MPH. At 25 MPH on that turn the bike feels like I'm going straight. And when I get to the ATM, OF COURSE THE GODDAMNED THING IS BEING SERVICED! At least they don't make you pull up to the thing to see this any more; oh no--they have a Steger cop standing there looking like a testosterone-filled douchebag with his car parked across the driveway. Like it's a fucking crime scene and he's from the CSI--the badass character, though, not the gay guy or anything. It's a surprise he doesn't have his light bar going, too: "LOOK OUT! I'M ON OFFICIAL POLICE BUSINESS HERE! GO AHEAD AND MAKE MY DAY...PUNK!"
...so I was saved the frustration of rolling up to the ATM, looking at the screen, and seeing it say, "I'm being serviced!" I turned around, went back to the Crete location, and get my money; then I ride out to McDonald's and get my food and ride home without further incident.
* * *
You see, this morning I decided I'd have a look at the doorbell. It hasn't worked in decades; it's one of those little projects I've been meaning to get after for years but didn't, until this morning. I'd gone to bed last night around midnight or so, and I'd taken a whole Xanax, so I was a bit surprised (and annoyed) that I'd woken up so early. But I was feeling sleepy again, so I thought I'd lay down--but first, I thought, I might as well have a quick gander and took the cover off the chime box--
I figured that Dad probably did it sometime when the house was going to be empty for a few days--maybe some time when we were all going to be gone for a while--and was taking a precaution against...I don't know what, actually.
But there's no wiring diagram and no indication of which wire went where, so I had to play around with it for a few minutes. I tried going by the lengths of the wires but that didn't work; what it did do was to help me figure out which one was the power wire, though. And once I had that it was obvious which one went where.
Diagnosis: the front door button does not work. The back door button is shorted. The latter is probably why it was disconnected, so I taped that wire off and left it disconnected. Removing the front door button and pinching the wires together, though, made the doorbell chime exactly as it was supposed to.
Hence my trip to the hardware store.
A button which matched the old one cost $3. I wired it in, tested it, and took down the "bell out of order, please knock" sign from the window.
So I got that going for me.