So came waiting for the phone to arrive, projected to arrive Tuesday. Obviously nothing would happen for Sunday, but there was the chance it might arrive early and let me set it up well ahead of leaving for bunny_hugger's. Nevertheless, it didn't arrive Monday, even though home did its part by being present all day. Tuesday was the first time it might be expected, and, it wasn't there. My father was getting a bit anxious about this, since he was eager to see my phone, and he was shocked to learn that it was from Verizon because there was the store just down the street and why didn't I buy one from there? I suspect that he's built up a nearly complete immunity to his hearing aid, and will need a replacement soon. I got to checking over my receipt to see if I had a tracking number; I didn't, or I couldn't find it in the eighty meters of tape ribbon produced when I bought the phone.
Still, Wednesday would be another day even if I could be expected to get in late --- yoga class, not to mention last-minute shopping for needed trip items --- and why shouldn't the phone be delivered then? What I found was one of those ``sorry we missed you'' delivery slips instead, stuck to the window beside the door. The existence of this annoyed my father because the Post Office and Federal Express have been told to just drop off packages. Well, Verizon wanted a signature, but I could sign the ``sorry we missed you'' slip and stick it back on the window, and the package would be dropped off tomorrow. That'd leave me an evening, at least, to get the phone set up and tested.
I signed the form and stuck it back on the window, and got to exercising, and within twenty minutes my mother brought in the slip for me to sign. She didn't notice I'd already signed it. Still, every reason to expect the phone to be delivered sometime Thursday and I'd have the whole evening, up until the time I went to bed early in order to make my flight while faintly conscious, to set it up. Early Thursday morning, my father called me at work to report the phone had arrived, indicating the moment he displayed more accumulated interest in my phone than I had. Still, I'd be home in one standard-issue workday, I'd have plenty of time for setup, and it wasn't as though there were any family members undergoing surgery that might need attention more urgently, except for the one who was.
Trivia: The See of Canterbury was paid compensation for the loss of income on the horse ferry across the Thames based near the Archbishop's home of Lambeth Place when the Westminster Bridge was built. Source: Old London Bridge: The Story Of The Longest Inhabited Bridge In Europe, Patricia Pierce.
Currently Reading: The Mightiest Machine, John W Campbell. Aaaaaaand there's the genocide. Sheesh. (In raiding an Enemy museum: ``That [ temple ] will have to be destroyed along with the rest of Teff-el. I think if it alone was saved, posterity would blame you for destroying the race that could create it.'') Imagine how the war would have wrapped up if Our Heroes had talked first with the other side. (As traditional, the alien war that's been going on for, oh, ever gets wrapped up when Scientist Protagonist whips up some new death rays off-screen and they wait a whole couple scenes to build, test, install, and deploy them.)