Still more frustration and Sidney--slightly ranty

I was reminded again last night of why I'm glad not to be living with Sidney anymore. Don't get me wrong--I love the man, but he can be extremely difficult to deal with.

To begin with, I'd had trouble getting through on the phone for a couple of days. I told myself that the wonky clip thing on the phone cord upstairs had probably made it come unplugged again--actually, the ringer had been turned off the entire time without my mother's knowing it--but I still started to get concerned. My mom has been having problems with my former cell phone, which she's been using, and Sid was apparently running around with his turned off, as he's prone to doing. Then, yesterday, I got a "this number is not in service" message on the landline; Sid must have forgotten to pay the phone bill again.

Not only did I want to see how Mom was doing, we were really starting to wonder where vatine's wallet was, and were hoping to get a tracking number. When we were over there the week before last, it disappeared in the office of the whitewater rafting outfitter, where they encouraged people to leave such things to prevent their falling in the river. The proprietor was horrified that it wasn't put in the safe, and offered to replace the contents, but it turned up. Since FedEx doesn't deliver on weekends, we had to leave before it could arrive at my parents' house, and they promised to send it along to us here.

The wallet did arrive there Monday, the 5th. My mother sent Sidney off later that day with instructions to dispatch it to us via the quickest method FedEx offers--it is, after all, Ingvar's wallet with all his cards in it, and he was likely to need it quickly. As I found out yesterday evening--when I finally got them on a cell phone--Sidney didn't do that. He decided to save a few dollars and go down to the post office.

The best I can tell, at least he may have sent it via Global Priority Mail, judging from a Q&A session similar to this:

"Did you send it Priority Mail?"

"I went down to the post office and put it in an envelope and stuck it in the slot." (Read: "I don't remember.")

"Was it an envelope from the post office?"

"Yes."

Considering that Global Priority is the cheapest option for wallet-shaped and -weight packages, and that he'd be unlikely actually to buy an envelope from them to send something--as opposed to using a free Priority one--chances seem decent that he did use the slightly quicker method, at least.

Oh yes, and the package with the prescription refills I couldn't get before I left (more insurance snafus), sent late April or early May, may still be on a ship. Possibly to Vanuatu, knowing the postal system. I am slightly irritated at my mother over that one; she should know by now what happens when you entrust Sidney with outgoing mail, and she was able to send it herself at that point.

I try to keep in mind that Sid doesn't process things the way most of the rest of us do, but it still gets frustrating. Particularly in a case like this, when it would seem pretty obvious to about anybody that there is a very good reason for using a quick and reliable method of delivery. (He has certainly complained about the postal service enough that I doubt he considers it eminently reliable.) This is another case of someone having explicitly asked him to do something, so he decided to go against her wishes besides the practical considerations. It has placed everyone else involved in a not-so-great situation, and he just doesn't get it. I don't think he can help it, which makes it even more frustrating.

Sorry for getting ratty, but at the moment I'm just a bit tired of letting this sort of thing roll of my back. I've been doing that, day in and day out, for too many years just to keep a semblance of peace.