First World Problems

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Where to start this week?  Lets start with last Sunday.  We headed to the monthly model train show in Wheaton to check it out.  My dad has started giving us some of his trains to sell and besides eBay as a resource I don’t know much about them.  Let me just say this train show was not the place to start.  Everything there was kind of old, dusty, dirty and big.  As far as I could tell there were no trains there in the same class as the ones we had.  Ours are all in original boxes and have never been opened.

On our way home from the train show we had a strange encounter.  As a car in front of me turned, there was a suddenly large gap in front of us.  As I began to accelerate, a car in the left lane turned on it’s blinker and merged in front of me.  Perfectly normal and safe, yet the car behind them also attempted to the same thing.  Which did not work out for him.  He nearly hit us, as he tried to be first.  Then proceeded to in what I can assume was meant to be intimidating follow closely behind us, before pulling up next to us and yelling through his window.  Needless to say he had nowhere near the reaction he intended as we were laughing at how ridiculous he was.  Yet, the encounter has stuck with me as being another entitled driver who had only their own priorities in mind.  He obviously had no care as to whether we were safe and only wanted to be first.  Hilariously, and to my delight is often the case, we pulled up at a red light to see him also waiting.  His speed was for naught and we were further delighted.

Thursday it rained.  Which meant our plans to go shooting were cancelled.  So, instead we went shopping.  To which I was forced into winter coats and faced attitude for having attitude when my family clearly already know that I detest clothes shopping.  It’s not my fault my dad and sister are shopaholics.  They’d spend all day in a mall happily.  I’d rather be chopping a bag full of onions with a dull knife.

Friday was salmon day.  Meaning that our local Whole Foods store had a sale on salmon. Sadly, the butcher cut me a piece bigger than one and a quarter pounds meaning that I shall have salmon for breakfast.  Alas, I did not want to trouble him to remove a small portion.

The people at the bank yet again requested that I open a savings account with them.  I can’t believe that every time I go in that they ask the same questions.  Granted the person is always different but I dislike being judged for my lack of savings account at the same bank I keep a checking account.

To top it off, I realized yet again, that people are disinterested in details.  Mainly that my aunt did not know how to spell my name.  On a check no less, after seeing my name spelled properly in an email, which I failed to receive as I saw that she’d incorrectly typed my email address.  As my sister was incorrectly identified as my father for contacting a store about trains.  Apparently, reading is a lost art.

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