First thing this AM, I got on line to pay my husband's outstanding parking ticket so there would be no problem getting the bike re-registered so that I could get it out of storage from the SFPD Tow.
Fine. Then I went to the Purgatory of Hopelessness that is DMV and waited and waited and waited. When it was finally my turn, I was told he had an outstanding parking violation. I said I'd paid it that morning and here was the confirmation of payment. They said that wasn't "proof" and they couldn't access any "proof" through the computer and why didn't I have a print out...etc etc? At this point I was frothing at the mouth and the blood sugar was gettting lllooooowwwww, so I just paid the damn thing all over again and got the registration, but I was incredibly snippy and bitchy to the woman. Probably completely out of line, but I just get so frustrated with this stuff.
I'm not good at it. I don't like to deal with it. There's a reason why hubby is supposed to be the adult in this relationship. He's good at this stuff. He stays calm. He's nice. People like him.
This is turning into a theme because yesterday when I went to psycho-sis' board and care to pay them her rent for this month, it turned out to be way more than we were originally quoted and once again, I ended up paying it because we need to get this taken care of, and again I was very close to losing my temper and being really unpleasant to people around me. I'm not putting away a lot of good karma these days.
So I got the registration done and then went up to Haight Street to get some food. (Eggplant/veggie sandwich and some fruit salad. Yummy.)
Then back down to 850 Bryant to get the bike release. Not to much trouble there, but I also decided this might be a good time to get a copy of the police report. Probably not much to do there, but there was some PG&E construction going on in the area and his woman has been calling from PG&E like she's afraid we might sue. Hmmmmmmm.
This meant going up to the 4th floor, where some poor guy was telling a woman his tale of woe about trying to get a report for something that happened 5 months ago and she actually had the report in her hand and refused to give it to him because someone else had to authorize it and blah blah blah. The guy was near tears and said he needed it right away for his case. All I did was fill out a form and wait a few minutes and I got my report. I felt so guilty. I actually said "I'm sorry" to the guy on my way out.
Equipped with release, I went to AutoReturn to give them their pound of flesh. At that point I called the Bike Guy and it turned out he was pretty close so I told him to come over and pick me and the bike up when he could. After I paid for the for tow and the five days of storage (GREEDY BASTARDS) I found out the bike wasn't at 750 7th Street...it was at Pier 70. The bike guy showed up and drove me over there and we did finally get the thing home.
There is just no way I can deal with psycho-sis now, so she's going to have to wait one more day and then I promise I will deal with getting a shit-load of stuff to her from her apartment.
Right now I'm trying to catch up on LJ and get up to the nursing home so Hubby and I can do the happy dance (metaphorically in hubby's case) over Arlen Specter.
My favorite quote about Specter was something that Ana Marie Cox said a few days ago about Michael Steele threatening Specter with a primary opponent in 2010.
"Don't forget Specter beat cancer. He's not afraid of Michael Steele."