Oh, The Invoices ...

OK, so early this week my sister told me that she has ordered some things that they want us -- specifically Mother and I -- to send to her overseas.  When shipping something overseas, there are a bunch of things that have to go with it, specifically forms that are stuck on the box and invoices explaining the contents stuffed in it.

I was lucky to see my sister tell me about these new contents that needed to be sent to her when I was checking my e-mail at the library.  There, I was able to print out these invoices and, in something I was not aware of, scratch out the prices.  For once, I was proactive and in fact surprised Mother when I came home and she told me about my sister's bounty.

My sister later told us that she wanted Mother to fill out the forms that the United States Post Office wants stuck on the box.  I was going to give these edited invoices to Mother so she could stash those invoices, fill out the forms and ship it herself.  But Mother insisted I do it; she had to take Father to the doctor on Thursday, she didn't know when in the evening she would be coming back, she was going to send it Friday morning and, I saw later, on a previous shipment my sister wanted Mother to send her I was indeed the one that filled out the forms.  I kind of threw a fit, but I decided to do it.  It was Wednesday, by the way.

Just to get back at her, I waited to do the form until Thursday evening, and I also decided to leave Thursday evening to cash in on a free hydro massage for Tax Day from Planet Fitness and then work on the Weekly Minnesota Sports Survey (and some alumni club stuff) at a coffeehouse.  Told my folks that I had to meet someone, though.  When I came back, it was Father who wanted to know whether or not I have everything together.  I did; like my parents saw when they came back (and just before I left for the evening), I had filled everything out and set everything on the dining room table.

So I'm at work today, and at break I turn my phone on.  I look and there is a text from both of my parental units as well as a voicemail from Mother.  I call her back because on the VM she said it was an "emergency."  When she gets fuckin' panicked, it's always an emergency.

Whatever.  I call her.  Mother goes, "Where are the invoices?"

"But I filled them out for you and gave them to Father!" I said.  And then, oh, wait ... I totally forgot about the invoices.  See, I was so stuck when Mother sandbagged me with the forms that my only thought was to do the forms.  At that point, the forms were the only papers my sister needed.  So I totally vanquished the invoices (which, you may remember, I proactively printed out of my own volition) out of my consciousness.  Forms, invoices -- they're all papers!  I had done the papers, and I forgot that there were other papers!

So I took more minutes from scoring papers than I should have to resolve the issue.  Eventually I had to turn on the 3G on my smartphone (and thus pay extra for this month) to forward my parents' e-mail the invoices and these revised prices that need to be put on the invoices that Mother had to print from the library during the day.

Father told me (for the first time in a long time I went to him instead of Mother) and he said they sent the package, just a couple hours later than she expected to.  I assume she got the revised prices I forwarded her, and that everything is hunky-dory.  So, I guess everything was fixed.  What was not fixed, and still may not be fixed, is whether or not Mother is pissed at me.  She ended my phone call to her when I told her she had to cross off the old prices and write new ones in.  But, she did not give me the silent treatment when they came home today (which, surprisingly, was after me; they were babysitting my niece -- have I blogged about my niece yet?), and when I asked her a couple questions she answered me.  Nevertheless, the thought of her being very pissed at me, specifically for reminding me to assemble all the papers together when I in fact did not, bothered the rest of my work day to the point where I could not concentrate.  The thought of her being so mad at me that I would come back tonight with all my stuff at the foot of her driveway (and even though all my stuff is here, I still won't put that past her, someday) significantly damaged my production.  It was not a good day, even if my worst fears were not realized.  And frankly, I still have to be on my guard, because I think she is going to tuck this in her memory bank in order to ruin a future day soon.