Just one of those weeks.
First, off I'd like to thank all of you for your good thoughts and wishes for my grandmother's recovery. I am told that she is making progress (slow, but steady), and her sense of humour remains in tact, lifting the spirits of the whole family. I'll finally be heading out there late next week to lend a hand and prove to Grandma that I really was paying attention during those knitting lessons.
Which brings me to a point. I have a bone to pick with Air Canada. First of all, the company no longer has family emergency rates if you're flying within North America. For this, they suck on immeasurable levels of suckiness: I can get a family emergency rate to Paris, or London, but not to Sault Ste. Marie. Here I would note that a return plane ticket to Paris or London at regular rates costs LESS than a return ticket to the Soo. Substantially less. Logic? I can only think that the almighty buck wins out again, even if it means gouging people who are on the brink of a break-down due to worry and fear for their loved ones. Classic.
Secondly, upon attempting to book the tickets, my Mother and I had the frickin' prices change on us approximately 4 times in the space of ten minutes. Now, I know and accept that the pricing of plane tickets is a volatile and ever-changing phenomenon, but this is insane. As a result of this diabolical pricing scheme, my mother and I are on one flight, and my sister is on another. And it will take us nine hours to get home (please note that actual flying time is 2 hours and 30 minutes- we will become very well acquainted with the wine bar at Trudeau Airport, I suspect).
Next in the comedy of errors that has been this week is the fiasco that has occurred with my new glasses. Finally, I have found a pair frames that I love, and have obtained a perscription through which I can actually see. Splendid, right? Except that I brought my beautiful, spotless, new glasses in to the shop from which I purchased them, to have them adjusted (they were killing my ears), and the guy who helped me ended up ruining my lenses. Ruining them. They look as if something has eaten into the coatings, so now it looks like one big smudge when I look through them. He has ordered new ones, of course, but now I am stuck wearing the old glasses- the ones with the chipped finish, scratched lenses, and the perscription that gives me headaches- for the next TWO WEEKS. I am so unimpressed. In fact, I'm pretty much spitting mad. And I've mellowed since last night.
But fear not. All will be well. My boss has been uncommonly good about helping me to arrange everything for my absence in this, the craziest time of my work year, so kudos to her- she's not wholly without consideration for her employess; I will be calling the manager of the eye-glass shop to see if we can't speed my lenses along a bit; I've managed to get three course modules done this week. Amazing progress for me; And finally, I am meeting a dear friend for beers, dinner, and movie tonight, with the object of both of us forgetting the ills of this past week. Joy! Is it 5 o'clock yet?
Labels: The glass is half full?