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bktheirregularSo I go to lunch and run errands, and come back to find two things:
1) A verbal report on my latest bank statement that is a) panic-inducing, and b) dead wrong.
Report: "Your bank statement says you owe twenty-five hundred dollars. Didn't you take care of that?"
Answer: "That's the available credit line. You see the number under 'amount you owe'? Two dollars twenty-five cents. See that?"
I was too tired to launch into arguments about opening other people's mail.
2) Official bar results came. Obnoxious hovering while I opened the envelope. "How'd you do?"
My score: 636. Passing score: 660. Missed by ... four percent or so.
"Well, you're going to have to make sure you get well over the passing grade next time."
[WARNING: the blogger's mental response to this statement has been classified by the Department of Justice as a Thoughtcrime. Agents are responding forthwith.]
Close entry.
1) A verbal report on my latest bank statement that is a) panic-inducing, and b) dead wrong.
Report: "Your bank statement says you owe twenty-five hundred dollars. Didn't you take care of that?"
Answer: "That's the available credit line. You see the number under 'amount you owe'? Two dollars twenty-five cents. See that?"
I was too tired to launch into arguments about opening other people's mail.
2) Official bar results came. Obnoxious hovering while I opened the envelope. "How'd you do?"
My score: 636. Passing score: 660. Missed by ... four percent or so.
"Well, you're going to have to make sure you get well over the passing grade next time."
[WARNING: the blogger's mental response to this statement has been classified by the Department of Justice as a Thoughtcrime. Agents are responding forthwith.]
Close entry.