(I go to get my car’s oil changed after putting it off for longer than I should have due to money issues. I only go today because I have a coupon for a better deal that I could afford. I’m checking my car in…)

Tech: “I’m sorry; our location isn’t accepting this coupon anymore. Neither is [Location 20 miles away].”

Me: “Oh…” *freaking out a little* “I’ve always used it here before.”

Tech: “We do have a $5 off coupon for a Works package. That’s the oil change, tire rotation, and check up. That comes to $39.95.”

Me: “Well, okay, I guess I have to. I’ll take that then.” *thinking to self that I can just make it if I don’t get groceries and don’t do anything else the next two weeks*

(I trudge to the waiting area and sit, mindlessly staring at the TV for a little over an hour, almost in tears at one point when I was thinking about my money situation.)

Tech: *walks in the room and calls my name* “If you’ll just step over to the checkout, we have your car ready for you. Oil’s changed and everything checks out fine.”

Me: “Thank you.” *thinking at least there wasn’t anything wrong I had to pay for*

Cashier: *typing my info into her computer* “Oh, it looks like you have a credit here for $50 on your account. Would you like to use that?”

Me: *wide-eyed and stammering* “Wha… what? Yes, I’d like to use that very much! Where did that come from?”

Cashier: *smiles* “It doesn’t show how you earned it. Well, you’re all set. Have a great day!”

(I wished her a great day too, still in shock. I have no idea where that $50 came from. There’s no reason it should have been there. Did someone in the waiting room see me looking sad and tell the cashier to give it to me? Did the tech know I was down about the money and put it there? I’ll never know. But I sure am grateful, however it got there.)

Me: *to coworker* “When you are applying for a job, we all know to update our resumes and keep them current. Right?”

Coworker: “Yup, why?”

Me: “I’m going through some resumes and I feel like I need to dispense some basic advice. One: if you must abbreviate titles, the abbreviation for “Assistant Supervisor” is not “Ass Supervisor.” Two: ensure the software with which you are familiar is current. You get no brownie points for having knowledge in Netscape Navigator, WordPerfect, or Lotus 1-2-3. Three: keep your contact information current. Please do not use your ex-spouse’s telephone number. We don’t want to hear about how they hope you get this job because they owe you back child support or how that “p.o.s.” and you are going through a divorce…”

(We have adopted a rescue dog who is very sweet, but does have quite a lot of psychological problems – one of them being an excessive fear of men. I only stayed home by coincidence, having a raging migraine. On the door is a sign that our normal mailman knows very well, since my parents often work night shifts and have to sleep in the morning, stating “PLEASE DON’T RING THE DOORBELL OR KNOCK!!!”, including the address where letters and packages can be delivered, which is right next door – my grandparents. The doorbell rings five times in a row, obviously one very impatient person. My dog freaks out and starts barking and growling, scratching my door. I crawl out of bed, grab a dressing gown, and make my way down the stairs, following the dog who is already in front of the front door, barking and growling at a figure that is STILL RINGING THE DOORBELL WITHOUT ANY INTERRUPTION. I put the dog in the bathroom and open the door.)

Me: “Yes?”

Mailman: *very young mailman, about my age* “Are you [Name that’s not my name, and not even close to it, and also male]?

Me: “…No.”

Mailman: “Is this [address that is obviously not mine, since we live right next to the road sign and have our address on our mailbox, which is literally right in front of him]?”

Me: “No.”

Mailman: “Oh. Sorry, then I’m at the wrong address!”

Me: “Ah. Have a nice day.” *noticing that he doesn’t leave* “Is there something else?”

Mailman: “Can I have your number?”

Me: “Don’t know. Can you read?”

Mailman: *looking genuinely confused* “Yes, I can?”

Me: “Then, please read this sign on the door. Have a nice day. I’m going to calm my dog down and sleep.”

(The dog needed another HOUR to stop barking and going crazy. What a nice day.)

(At work we discuss popular movies. One of my coworkers is a big Disney fan. At that time “Frozen” has come out.)

Coworker: “Disney is really improving on the gender roles in the movie, so the men are sometimes weak and needs to be saved by a woman, or women have different connections than they used to be. I think it is something special that a woman is not only the lead but the hero, too. Like in Frozen.”

Me: “What is so special about it, having a woman be a hero? That’s normal. And Disney had movies which had female heroes and leads. Besides, in the original story it is also a woman, Gerda in that case, who is looking for Kai and is rescuing him from the snow queen.”

Colleague: “[My Name], please be quiet and don’t reveal everything. I haven’t seen the movie yet.”

Me: “Neither have I. I am just retelling the fairy tale the movie is based on.”

Colleague: “What fairy tale?”

Me: “’The Snow Queen’ by Hans Christian Andersen.”

Colleague: “There is a fairy tale?”

(Our entire department has just been downsized and our employer has been trying to help us find other jobs. This includes helping us transfer to other Federal government positions. I am speaking with one of the counsellors hired to help us.)

Counsellor: “So, have you decided whether to take the severance package or try to transfer to another position?”

Me: “I’d like to try for a transfer, if I can find one in a smaller town in Alberta or British Columbia.”

Counsellor: “Well, you can forget about that. Everyone wants to transfer to Vancouver or Victoria.”

Me: “…”

(For everyone’s information, Vancouver and Victoria are large cities. Not sure how that translates to “a smaller town.” I took the severance package, have lived in a small town on the BC coast ever since, and have owned my own business for several years. Take that, counsellor lady.)