There they are. Sitting on my desk. Taunting me.
They aren't big, or even heavy or ugly. But just looking at them makes me shudder. Why should I be so afraid of boxes? I'm a grown woman, for heaven's sake. I've run up and down mountains and given birth to --count them--three children!
These boxes should mean nothing to me.
I chant to myself, It's okay, it's okay. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and randomly grab one.
I hold it with one hand and shake it. It doesn't rattle or make a noise. The insides are packed tightly. I open my eyes. I've got the red one, which is actually more hot-pink.
I grasp the pull-tab. With a ripping sound that echoes the ripping in my heart, I open the box. It's all over--I can't return it now.
It's okay. It's okay.
With a small shake the contents slide onto the desk with a bubble-wrapped thunk.
It's okay. It's... No. It's not okay. Are you serious? I paid a small fortune for that?!
It's freaking not okay at all! How can they even look at themselves in the mirror while they rip people off like this?!
I'm not talking about lawyers, or even those people who rip you off with all those obscure mortgage fees. I'm talking about the criminal nature of the printer ink business!
And what's up with the whole your-printer-can't-print-in-just-black-if-the-color-cartridges-are-empty-even-though-the-black-one-is-almost-completely-full piece of crap? I'm curious how somehow all 3 of my colors ran out at the same time. It's a conspiracy, I tell you!!
And we switched to a laser printer after I almost went postal on the ink jets. Have you priced laser printer cartridges lately? They sell to the tune of $72. PER CARTRIDGE!!!
But at least they provide you with a nice mailing label so you can send the old cartridge back in the box to recycle it. Gee, thanks.
Thanks for a whole lot of nothing!
*You'll have to excuse the rant, but I and my household budget are still reeling from the trip to Office Depot.*