Yeah, I know, what a pain. The cave room comes with a weekly cleaning service. Poor me.
Really I am not complaining. I think it more amusing than anything else. But in order for them to clean, I have to clean. It seems that they won't clean the counter if there is anything on it. That includes the bathroom counter.
I get it, but this is a tiny space and things are out because we use them. So it takes about an hour to put everything away so they can clean, and we might find what we need again without tearing the place to pieces.
I also put all the used towels in a pile and strip the bed to ensure that the sheets are actually changed. And as long as I am at it, I gather up the trash. If I had access to a mop and a vacuum and toilet bowl brush, I could probably just do it myself.
Meanwhile I have been trying to get a hold of the mail supervisor at the post office in Chicago. It seems they may have called it a day and started the weekend early. Gotta love it. They simply aren't answering the phone. It just rings and rings and rings. Sometimes I let it ring long enough that I get that recording that informs me my party is not answering and they are sorry but they are disconnecting me now. That's really what it says.
I initially talked to one of the non-supervisors. She informed me it could take up to three weeks for mail to forward. That's not what the web site says.
I explained that it has been over two weeks now and shouldn't they have at least received it by now? She agreed that they probably should have, even suggesting that I should have received a confirmation type letter in the mail at this point. She had as much luck as I am having with finding a supervisor though to actually see what's up. But clearly she didn't want me hounding her the rest of the day, so gave me their direct number.
Clearly I have fallen out of the good graces of the U.S. Postal Service. Is it too much to just want my mail? Seems so.
Part of me just really wants to pull my hair out. I feel like I am getting no where.
Oh, and one last thing. I have started looking on Craig's List for a more permanent address (so I can really f*&@ up my mail delivery). We have an appointment to look at something tomorrow morning.
I am so mixed about all of this, it isn't even funny. It just seems so permanent. And that makes no sense, even to me. Maybe I am just too worn down at this point? I don't know. Maybe I'll just miss the maid service. 😉