So Much for Mensa
Wednesday was my last official day for the semester. Yet why, one day later, am I already stupid? Shouldn't the atrophy of the brain not set in until around late-June? Nope, not for me. One day out of school, and I'm officially brain dead.
My cell phone officially died late Wednesday night. It cannot dial, the display is broken, and although it rings with an incoming call, it cannot pick up. So I went ahead and ordered a new one, which should be here either Saturday or Tuesday. (Goddamn holiday weekend.) I'm sure you are thinking that this is a non sequitur, but really, the point is coming.
The only thing left that I can do with my phone is call from another line to check the messages. I've been borrowing my dad's cell for that purpose until my situation is cleared up. Anyway, last night, I am at my boyfriend's place, which is a cell-signal black hole, and Cingular mocks any attempt I make to dial out. I borrow my boyfriend's phone, which is Sprint, and has a little more luck. But when I call my number, I get that annoying message that says my phone is no longer in service or has been disconnected.
At this point, I'm pissed. I'm figuring that the chick I spoke to at Cingular earlier that day to order my phone has screwed something up. I call back fuming, and sit on hold forever, until one of the techs dials my phone, and it rings. So I figure the problem is fixed. I hang up, and dial my number again, only to get the same message, that it is disconnected.
I'm ready to cry at this point. I'm stomping around the apartment, cussing out Cingular and talking about joining another carrier, when it hits me. My boyfriend's line is a 650 area code. Mine is a 408. I forgot to input the area code.
So yeah, I'm a moron.
My cell phone officially died late Wednesday night. It cannot dial, the display is broken, and although it rings with an incoming call, it cannot pick up. So I went ahead and ordered a new one, which should be here either Saturday or Tuesday. (Goddamn holiday weekend.) I'm sure you are thinking that this is a non sequitur, but really, the point is coming.
The only thing left that I can do with my phone is call from another line to check the messages. I've been borrowing my dad's cell for that purpose until my situation is cleared up. Anyway, last night, I am at my boyfriend's place, which is a cell-signal black hole, and Cingular mocks any attempt I make to dial out. I borrow my boyfriend's phone, which is Sprint, and has a little more luck. But when I call my number, I get that annoying message that says my phone is no longer in service or has been disconnected.
At this point, I'm pissed. I'm figuring that the chick I spoke to at Cingular earlier that day to order my phone has screwed something up. I call back fuming, and sit on hold forever, until one of the techs dials my phone, and it rings. So I figure the problem is fixed. I hang up, and dial my number again, only to get the same message, that it is disconnected.
I'm ready to cry at this point. I'm stomping around the apartment, cussing out Cingular and talking about joining another carrier, when it hits me. My boyfriend's line is a 650 area code. Mine is a 408. I forgot to input the area code.
So yeah, I'm a moron.
posted by Marissa at 5:18 PM
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