One of life’s mysteries

Maybe it’s just me, but…

When I am a customer in a store, and I complete my purchase, and I thank whoever helped me, I don’t think it’s appropriate for that person to say “No problem.” Or “Uh-huh.” Or “Next!” Or even the unadorned, “You’re welcome.”

Aren’t they supposed to thank me, too, for shopping there? It’s been a long time since I worked with the public, but I’m pretty sure that’s the way it was done.

Message to the rude: You hate your job. You’ll never be on “American Idol.” You probably won’t win the lottery. But you know, you don’t have to be brilliant, wealthy, talented, or beautiful to have good manners. Really!

And by the way? Thank you for reading. =)

Questions for which I have no answers

1. Why does a HUGE roast cost half the price of three small boneless, skinless chicken breasts? Is it the beef people’s revenge for those clever cows?

2. Why am I still not a vegetarian?

3. Is the current flea infestation at my house the fault of the Suicidal Cat Next Door and its sibling, Cat With No Name?

4. Where did the cookies go?

5. Will I ever get this book proposal to my editor?

Are we there yet?

I have a client on the way. Which means poor Timothy rolled out of bed and started vacuuming. Sleepvacuuming. I wonder if there’s a drug for that? I wonder if he’d share?

On the plus side, my FREAKING order from insightoutbooks finally came, so I can ship out my Christmas presents later than I ever have. I don’t foresee anyone getting anything on time, but… I don’t control the world. Dammit.