A new telephone directory arrived in our mailbox yesterday. And it has my name in it! I'm so excited.
I wonder how long it has been since I first requested that my name be included in the listing? What prompted the request was my in-laws moving to town. That was nine years ago. They sometimes get calls intended for me because the caller isn't sure of my husband's name and picks the wrong number.
It's been a long journey. At least twice I called the phone company and was told it was too late for the directory already in process. That's all right, I told them. Just change it for the next one. Another year would pass after the arrival of that in-process directory and I would discover the change had not been made. However, instead of calling immediately, I'd forget about it until it was once again too late to catch the next publication. Finally, I requested the change, waited a couple of weeks and verified that 'information' could come up with a number to match my name. Still I couldn't be sure until I actually saw it in print.
I feel so much more like a real person now.
Friday, February 25, 2005
Wrong Number, Small Town, USA
(Note: Names and numbers changed to protect the innocent.)
Ring, ring!!
Hello?
Ronna?
Nope. This is Marsha Lynn. You want 9568. This is 9468.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
That's all right. They get our calls; we get their calls. It's not a problem.
You're from the library, right?
Yes, I am.
Oh... well, I'm sorry again. Good-bye.
I wish I were better at identifying telephone voices. She recognized my name, but I didn't recognize her voice.
At least Ronna's number was fresh in my mind this time because our daughters are in a musical group together and I called her about something last week.
One thing I haven't figured out is why two different people have left messages for Ronna and/or her husband on our answering machine. The outgoing message clearly states our name which sounds nothing like their name. Would you talk to an answering machine that claims to belong to someone other than the person you were calling? Would you call the person who left such a message to tell them they dialed the wrong number?
Ring, ring!!
Hello?
Ronna?
Nope. This is Marsha Lynn. You want 9568. This is 9468.
Oh, I'm so sorry.
That's all right. They get our calls; we get their calls. It's not a problem.
You're from the library, right?
Yes, I am.
Oh... well, I'm sorry again. Good-bye.
I wish I were better at identifying telephone voices. She recognized my name, but I didn't recognize her voice.
At least Ronna's number was fresh in my mind this time because our daughters are in a musical group together and I called her about something last week.
One thing I haven't figured out is why two different people have left messages for Ronna and/or her husband on our answering machine. The outgoing message clearly states our name which sounds nothing like their name. Would you talk to an answering machine that claims to belong to someone other than the person you were calling? Would you call the person who left such a message to tell them they dialed the wrong number?
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Forms and more forms
Monday I finished our personal income taxes which provide the necessary data to complete two FAFSAs (Free Applications for Federal Student Aid) and one College Board profile so that two universities can determine how much money we should be able to provide for our two college students next year. Tonight I submitted the financial aid forms online. Whew! Four days to spare. Now I can move on to other, equally pressing deadlines.
So when am I supposed to have time to think deep thoughts for my blog?
It took me a while to figure out that I wouldn't have to complete a FAFSA for my oldest this year. She's graduating. No more FAFSAs for her. No more claiming her on our taxes. Unless she opts for graduate school, August will no longer mean a move back to college for her.
It's taking me a bit to adjust to this new stage in life. She always has been the one to step into these new experiences first, leading the way for her brother and sister. I can see why oldest children develop different traits than middle and youngest children. (I'm a middle child myself.)
So when am I supposed to have time to think deep thoughts for my blog?
It took me a while to figure out that I wouldn't have to complete a FAFSA for my oldest this year. She's graduating. No more FAFSAs for her. No more claiming her on our taxes. Unless she opts for graduate school, August will no longer mean a move back to college for her.
It's taking me a bit to adjust to this new stage in life. She always has been the one to step into these new experiences first, leading the way for her brother and sister. I can see why oldest children develop different traits than middle and youngest children. (I'm a middle child myself.)
Joining the trend of public journaling
I've been reading some interesting blogs and thought maybe I'd give this a try. Of course, it remains to be seen whether I come up with anything worth sharing. At least I have a place to do it now if I get the urge.
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