Kawaskum Is A Town in Wisconsin (Evidently)

My hatefulness towards telemarketers reached an all-time high moments ago. I'm tired, you see, because I've had a rather long day. Having yesterday off only made today feel like a Monday, and those, as we know, are just bad news.

I was very tired. Very frazzled. Here's how frazzled I was: I had an entire conversation with one of my kids about golf. I talked about Annika Sorenstam's short game. I talked about Phil. Ten seconds later, he says, "Do you have any irons?" And I say, "What, like I use on my clothes?" He laughed at me. The day just proceeded from there.

So...I was looking forward to being at home, making a nice salad, kicking my feet up, etc. etc. Imagine my chagrin when the phone rings and I pick it up, only to have someone pronounce my name wrong.

"Can I speak to Kreestee Groovs?"

Immediately, I realize that this person does not know me.

"Who is this?" I really punch the "this" when I say it too, very accusatory, daring them to say something else.

There is a pause.

DOM DOM DOM...

He manages to get out, "I'm calling on behalf..." Before I lay it on him. Here's what I said:

"Are you serious? Are you seriously calling me at 6.30? Honestly?"

Click.

See, I realize that the poor man works for someone, that someone somewhere has compiled a list that he sits and works through. This is how he makes his money. But I needed to take my anger out.

Maybe he'll scratch my name off the list, really hard, like so hard that he tears the paper up.

Oh well. At least the new American Idol starts tonight. Bring on the warblers and the screechers! I know Simon is meaner than I am!