Serious Drama

I am inserting a disclaimer in this blog:
I Susan Rogers, state that this here entry is extremely shallow as are much of my blogs. This is because I have no major drama in my life as many others do. I have experienced my fair share of it, and seem to be in a peaceful place for the moment. I am aware that this could change at any moment. I am aware that my world could come crashing down around me at any second. At which time, you will all be the first to hear. I am not unaware that many of you are going through difficult and trying times that of course make my problems seem so small. I have read tales of death, illness, incurable diseases, miscarriages and many other hardships. I recognize that your pain is so much more than my own little inconveniences in life. I write about what I have to write about.



I have been MIA for a few days. A little drama and more customer service issues. I am starting to think I have some kind of bad karma going on. On Tuesday my mom was admitted to the hospital for breathing problems. She has COPD (Chronic Obstructive Pulmonary Disease). After work I head home to pick up the girls. I was exhausted. My eyes were bloodshot red. When we arrive at the hospital I ask at the admissions desk for my mom’s room number. The receptionist gave us a room number on the second floor. The girls and I made our way to the elevator and discovered that there was no “second floor” button in the elevator, only buttons for 1 and 3. I very logically deduce that we must be in a part of the building that is not accessible to the second floor. We ride the elevator to the third floor and walk ALL THE WAY across the building looking for second floor access. We found an elevator that would take us to the second floor. We get to the second floor and travel through a maze of hallways unlike anything I have ever seen.

Now I am really, really, really exhausted. If possible, my eyes are even more bloodshot red. We finally found my mom’s room, only to discover it empty. Apparently they hadn’t brought her up to her room yet. What to do, what to do. We could sit and wait for her to arrive or we could make our way to the emergency department and try to find her there. I am thinking that while I love my mother and want to make a good show of support, that I am really tired and want to leave as soon as possible. (I know what some of you are thinking, believe me, I already thought it myself) I have two children that have not had any dinner yet and we are all worn out. I decide not to waste a single moment waiting for her to get to her room and we walk back across the hospital down to the ground floor and find my mom. Where they promptly wheeled her back across the hospital and up to the second floor to her room. Where we just came from. Karma folks, karma. That’s what you get when you selfishly think of how tired and hungry you are as opposed to thinking about your mother being in the hospital and how she must be feeling.

We stayed until around nine and finally head home. Only all three of us are starving and still have not had any dinner yet. We decide a fast food restaurant is the logical plan. Through the drive thru we go where we wait hours it seems for the two cars in front of us to get through. Finally it is our turn. The lady hands me my drink and then I feel something dripping all over me. I look down and soda is dripping all over me and my new car. My response was to yell pretty loudly, “I NEED A NAPKIN, I NEED A NAPKIN”. Why in the world would you hand a customer a drink that is dripping everywhere? Why would you not take a moment to get a napkin and wipe the excess soda from the cup? Why would you want soda to drip all over your customer’s new car? And your customer’s nice work pants? Why?

I haven’t had my car very long and I am still in the anal stage. You know, where you don’t eat or drink or allow eating or drinking in your car. Because THIS time, you are going to take extremely good care of your vehicle so it will look nice, and you MAY someday be able to sell it. There will be no petrified French fries discovered weeks, or even years down the road. You wash and vacuum said car religiously. Every. Single. Week. Without fail. Only to have a very rude bird poop on it the very next day
Next comes the food. Keri’s order is wrong. Keri’s order is ALWAYS wrong. Why? Because she always has special instructions like “no ketchup” or “no lettuce”. Which is a recipe for incorrect food. I look at the tacos and see that they only have meat and cheese. Her special instruction of “no lettuce” was interpreted as “no lettuce, no tomato and no sour cream”. I grit my teeth, and as nicely as I can muster, say that the order is wrong. The reason I grit my teeth and try to maintain my composure is simple. I don’t want that chick to spit in my food. FINALLY, everything is right, my drink is no longer dripping and Keri got the right food. We went home and ate, then all three of us fell into bed at 9:30. We were all exhausted. Karma people……what have I done?