So, my original plan involved me hitting the new year with a bang (no, not that kind of bang, heads out of the gutter ). I get very into the whole resolutions thing, and I really do try to hit the ground running in hyper-productive mode.
Alas, I have been momentarily felled by a cold. The only thing hitting the ground running is my nose, and the only thing I’m really embracing is my blankie.
Given these things, I am willing to concede that I might be a bit cranky.
Buying my car was easier than buying decongestant today.
I know that the new rules mean I have to take a little card to the pharmacy. I know that they do this to regulate how much magical Sudafed they sell. I get it. Really. I’m sympathetic… most of the time. Today, I wanted my freakin Sudafed.
What I didn’t want—to stand behind the other 15 people in front of me. I’m sure they were lovely people, but they didn’t look pathetic like I did. They weren’t trying to fend off a coughing fit, and they all looked like they could breathe. There needs to be a line for currently pathetic, or serious whine-baby.
Here was the big surprise for me, though. You can make long-term investments, buy cars and homes with less paperwork than it took to get one box of Sudafed. I’m not kidding. They needed ID. They needed to swipe the ID tag. They needed to enter the codes. They needed me to not only sign for the box of Sudafed, but also write down my address and sign the book.
Does Homeland Security know about these procedures? If not, perhaps they should just adopt these policies and hire border pharmacists. Nothing is getting past these suckers.
You’ll be happy to know that I have prevailed, and will be slightly less cranky soon.