strange [day] indeed

In the last week, I’ve awoken and not been able to go back to sleep due to thinking of business cards.  Yes, I know that’s a strange worry.  Recently I was asked to get new cards printed for the CEO of the organization I work for.  Unfortunately, he and anyone else who might have information regarding where they were previously printed was unsure.  Unsure of where they were printed, that is.  I believe the {business went out of business}.  So, I was left to find a new printer.  After obtaining price quotes from a few places whose reputation I had no idea about, I decided to get them printed at Staples.  I had a coupon, plus I figured Staples most likely isn’t going to go out of business.  Therefore, whenever we need to print more cards, the folks at Staples will be ready to go.  Well, for whatever reason, and I’m really not sure why, I’ve had an anxiety issue about the cards being printed.  I feared going to pick them up and them being completely wrong, or them costing 10x more than I’d been told they would, or them being laced with anthrax (okay, not really).  I realize these are fairly ridiculous concerns, but that’s the way my mind works, especially between 2 – 4 a.m.  

I picked them up this afternoon.  I looked at them, and thought, “Hey, they look good.”  I took them back, showed them to someone else in the office who agreed.  I then placed them on the CEO’s desk while he was out of his office.  Not too long later, he swings by my desk.  He’s got the box of cards in his hand.  My heart sunk, knowing, just knowing he absolutely hated the cards.  Something must be wrong.  He proceeded to ask me if they were expensive.  Again, something must be wrong.  I told him the price, then he showed me one of the cards, asking me to look at it.  I did.  And then I saw it.  The card listed his title as Chief Operating Officer.  If you’ve been paying attention to this somewhat boring story you’ll realize that is not his title.  He’s the Chief Executive Officer.  We actually do not have a COO.  The artwork I’d been emailed was from years past when he was the COO.  But times have changed.  He’s been promoted, yada yada. . .   Fortunately, he was not upset about this.  He laughed about it.  He mentioned he’d hoped the error was on Staples.  But it wasn’t.  It was on us.  He’s going to go ahead and use them.  And my guess is, unless he hands one of the cards to you, a reader of this entry, no one will notice the difference.  On we go. . . . . . 

Another oddity of this day was that I came home to my son wearing a hand knitted (my his friend’s mom) hat.  It’s hard to describe, and I really should post a photo.  It’s sort of like what a reggae artist would wear.  His friend, whose mom made it, has dredlocks.  My son does not.  My son requested she make it, using red, white and black yarn in honor of the White Stripes.  If this doesn’t make sense to you, I suggest you research the White Stripes, and perhaps it will once you see they’re always dressed in these colors.   

What else makes this day strange?  Not only did I visit Staples once to pick up the cards and other stuff, I visited a second time because I left a manila folder containing important information on the counter when I paid.  I’m starting to feel God has a purpose for me at Staples.  I’m also starting to feel it’s because there’s a lady who works there that I honestly couldn’t stand to be around six months ago, but I’ve tried and now I can tolerate her.  

I’m sure there were other oddities about today.  I just can’t remember.  Except that I do remember one other.  Today I mailed a graduation card to my cousin who just graduated high school.  While addressing it, I realized she lives in the same house my dad lived in when he graduated high school in, get this, 1957.  The house was my grandparents’ and now it’s her mom’s.  Interesting, somewhat nostalgic, and I suppose a symbol of some roots there.  Maybe her child will live there when he or she graduates too.  

I’m hoping for a better night of sleep tonight.  And I’m hoping not to visit Staples tomorrow.  And I’m hoping that Jamie’s friend’s mom becomes quite successful selling hats to teenage boys.

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