I hardly bit anyone, today

Went to work today.  Snapped at, and then apologized to, coworkers who totally did not deserve snappage.  Spent some quiet time in the freezer (aka server room) and managed to rein in my temper somewhat.  This evening I'm feeling a bit more sane.

The Canadian Gander suggested I spend some time planning a trip.  (He's a hiker too.)  It's a good suggestion.  So with no further ado, some winter trip planning.  In this case I'm less concerned with where I go than what I'll take.  My gear is lightweight or ultralight for the most part.  That doesn't seem to translate well to cold weather, based on how miserably cold I've felt.  I do all right while I'm moving.  At night, though, the cold feet and cold butt are just awful.  I need more and heavier gear.

I'm really not looking forward to how heavy that pack is going to be.

Some specifics to add or swap:

15 degree Montbell U.L. Super Spiral, swapped for 30 degree bag

66" or 72" Big Agnes Insulated Air Core pad, swapped for 72" NeoAir (Or take the NeoAir AND a foam pad)

Added long underwear bottom (Smartwool?)
Second added long underwear bottom of some type

My upper half is pretty good with what I already have - wicking shirt, stretch fleece top, down jacket, windbreaker or raincoat

Maybe some mittens in addition to my fleece gloves?

Swap white gas stove for alcohol stove, maybe?

Add hot water bottles.

Add balaclava

And I think that's it for now.  At the rate the weather is changing, I'm going to need some of it for my Veteran's Day trip.

Look how much calmer I am already.  Trip planning is good.

One more day of work and smacking machines around, and then it'll finally be the weekend.  I'm looking forward to getting Pluto's feet trimmed (he went from looking perfect to looking awful in one week), riding with Tara, and hanging out at the Renaissance Festival.  Given that I'm an Old Married Lady now, I can look but not touch.  I'll have to egg on my single friends so I can voyeuristically enjoy the male offerings.  I tend to applaud any man in tights I happen to see.

Some scenes from my day:

This was all green last week

Thank goodness we have places to get outside and walk around so I can see prettiness

Thumbnail sketch of life at a science facility.  Donuts on left, giant shiny tank of gas (maybe nitrogen?) to right, infinite hallway directly ahead.

It isn't usually the customer that goes postal, is it?

I tried to do something nice today.  At least I think it was nice.  And technically I succeeded, but I didn't feel that nice by the time I was done.

That box full of goodies that I put together yesterday, to mail to a thruhiker?  Was supposed to be a flat rate box.  The awesome thing about a flat rate box is you stuff it as full as you want, and there is no tedious weighing or measuring.  I marched into the post office at work and asked if they had flat rate boxes.  The woman nodded and asked me which size I wanted out of the ones displayed.  I pointed to the little one.  She charged me $5.20, put $5.20 worth of stamps on it, stuck a "flat rate envelope" sticker on it, and handed it to me.  And she said I could mail it from anywhere.

So I came home, jammed it full of goodies, taped it up securely, and left it in plain sight so I'd remember to mail it in the morning.  I left the house a wee bit early so I could do that.  And got to the post office half an hour before it opened.  Doh!  I couldn't just leave it, because there was a plaque saying you couldn't mail things with stamps on them if they weighed over 13 oz.  And there was no scale for me to check the weight.  It felt heavy though.

So I stopped in at the work post office.  It's closed Fridays.  Sigh.  No scale there either, and same admonition about 13 oz. 

Next I went to my office and found the address of the next nearest post office to work.  I headed over there and stood in line.  They did have a scale, but it was hooked up to a computer so you couldn't just check the weight on something easily.  Hence going over and standing in line to have it weighed.  I expected they would check my ID, or something, if it were over 13 oz, and I'd be on my way.

When I got to the counter, the lady said "that's not a flat rate box".  I pointed at the flat rate sticker.  She said that didn't make it a flat rate box.  I told her a USPS person had sold it to me as a flat rate box.  She denigrated my work post office.. and then she showed me a real flat rate box.  Which was slightly smaller than the box I was holding. 

I started feeling a little ragey.  Do you ever get a red film over your vision when you get mad?  I do.  (I would have made a good berserker.)  I struggled to maintain a grip on my temper.  I said "Could I at least get my $5.20 back?" She looked confused.  I pointed to the stamps. 

Postal lady was not going to refund my $5.20.  My only real option was coughing up whatever additional funds it would take to send the package by non-flat-rate priority class mail.  And that is what I did.

She mumbled something about calling the work post office to tell them they couldn't do just stick flat rate stickers on other boxes and call it good, and I said they probably wouldn't like what I said if I called.  She clarified that *she* would call.  Which is for the best, really.  The postal lady had been firm but friendly and professional with me, I must say, even in the face of my obvious piss-off-ed-ness.  I really couldn't fault her.  She wasn't the one who stuck a flat rate sticker on a random box and sold it to me.

Still, I generally felt screwed by the USPS and it took the shine off my day.  I had purchased the damn box in good faith.  I shouldn't be expected to memorize the exact size of all of their boxes, nor all their procedures.  If a postal worker sells me something, I have every reason to believe it is what they says it is. 

Anyway.  Not loving the post office right now.  Am hoping a good night's sleep, riding a horse, and seeing a good friend tomorrow will make everything all right.