Friday, June 15, 2007

Chantix Day 9 - Getting There but No Pizza

So today is Day 9 on the Chantix train (other cars here), and it really and truly is starting to do its thing. I might even wind up quitting before the 14 day cut off I gave myself (yes, instructions 7 days, but I knew I wouldn't be ready yesterday, and I wasn't). I'm starting to think that it won't take me until that 14th day, though, which would be next Wed June 20. I say that because yesterday I stretched the time between smoke breaks and only had a couple of cigarettes at night. It doesn't even seem super appealing to me most of the time, not even after dinner last night (which was not pizza). That is nothing short of amazing. Home still seems easier, getting in my car to and from work are hardest. It's so much about the routine. Even taking the full dose yesterday, my dreams are still just interesting instead of bad (it's almost like going to the movies, but even cooler), and the stomach stuff is mostly just minor. I do feel tired, but that could be because I need to go to bed earlier...

So about this pizza thing. Let me preface this by saying that I've been ordering pizza for a lot of years and online for the past several years. Let's just say that I've ordered a lot of pizza because I think it's more cost effective (and yummier) than most fast food because two people can munch on it for a few meals instead of one. In all that time, it went the same way. "Hello, pizza people? Yes, I like the deal for 2 large ones of these with some of this and that on them. OK, $20 something and about 30 minutes, sounds great" (same but quieter online), and then they turn up on my doorstep with a pizza anywhere from 20-50 minutes later, and I do that thing where I try to sign something standing on one leg with the pizza box balanced on my other knee while I try to make sure that one of the kitties doesn't escape and that I don't fall over and drop the damn pizza. Last night I only made it up to the order placing portion of the process with Papa John's. And then we waited.

When I'm waiting for a pizza, I always feel kind of like a hostage. I mean, I don't want to really start anything involved because sometimes they show up in 20 minutes. And yet when they show up 50 minutes later I think "well crap, I would have had plenty of time to floss the cats' teeth and run out to buy more laundry detergent if I'd have known for sure they were going to be late, but I couldn't because I didn't." So last night I got a confirmation email saying it should be 30-40 minutes and busied myself playing around on MTurk (up to $54.40 or $69.27 if the rest ever get approved and cleared) with the quick and dirty HITs I could stop at any moment. After about 50 minutes, I started to wonder. That's usually about the threshold. So I try calling the local store number as instructed in the email where it said I'd be eating by now, and the phone rang off the hook. For 3 minutes and 4 seconds each time I called, more pissed and even hungrier each time, the phone would ring and ring and finally disconnect. Then Tom and I both started dialing as if that would make a difference - it didn't.

Now what the hell do you do? If I always felt like my time was being held hostage before, well now I was really in a pickle far beyond the usual. The pizza might or might not arrive, my card may or may not have already been charged, and I'm ravenous with no idea whether to stay, go get something else or stand on my head. Ordering another pizza, which is what we were really in the mood for and the whole reason I even bothered, was out of the question because that would take another forever and could mean we'd have something like 4 pizzas for 2 people if PooPoo John's ever did come through with the goods. It was madness. Finally, at the hour and a half mark, I called the online tech support number (they actually called it a "support group," which I found absolutely hilarious - maybe it was my hunger), and that guy also got the unanswered ringing when he tried the local store for answers (but I bet it didn't bother him as much because he wasn't as hungry and it wasn't his pizza), and he was able to cancel the damn order and said he'd send an email confirming my card wouldn't be charged. I got some asinine email while we were out getting something else to eat that wasn't pizza (while very, very irate and ravenous and fairly surly) saying something about how they couldn't reach me, so the order was canceled. Good thing I'd already eaten or that email would have pissed me off, too because it *so* didn't happen the way their canned response said - they were the deadbeats in this scenario, not me.

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