I didn’t feel any sort of an ominous, heavy weight in the room until I was told of the real situation at hand.
The men behind the desk had guns strapped to their sides and wore bullet-proof vests, or so I was told, a voice whispering in my ear.
Oh, there was still some lingering aggravation on my part, but by that point I was going along with the program. I would soon have my package.
I’d been aggravated for weeks, on account that my braille display (electronic braille machine) had stopped working after only one year’s use. I wasn’t particularly hard on it and I’d done nothing to damage it, unlike my dear departed first Mac laptop.
The line of braille is little metal dots, poking up, and then, one day, some on the left side just decided they no longer wanted to do their job. This made reading the first few words of each line nearly impossible. What a way to aggravate me.
I waited and finally I phoned the necessary number and requested a repair. Mine would be sent back, across the border, and a temporary replacement would be sent to me in the meantime.
Quite the switch. Still, I didn’t anticipate any problems until I was notified that the delivery service could not deliver it to me.
I needed to fill out, print out forms and take them to Canada Customs for clearance.
It was a whole thing, for a time there, but now that I have the loaner here, all that aggravation feels so far away.
I can, once more, read articles and essays, thanks to the magic of Bluetooth and my iPhone.
I can write and read back what I’ve written. I can spellcheck my writing and edit my own work.
It’s so nice to have all that aggravation behind me, for now, and I am thankful I held my temper and frustration/aggravation in front of those customs guys with the guns – only for precaution of course.
Easy gentlemen. I’m no smuggler.
End of the week prompt word for Just Jot It January
This, That, and the Other