Categories
Life

Pet Peeve #2

Every now and then, I find myself needing to vent about a recent event that has irritated me. It doesn’t matter if you care or not but you’re more then welcome to add your comments or even share any recent pet peeves of yours in the Comments.

Purolator is a courier service owned by Canada Post. I’d love to complain to them directly but after being on hold for an hour on the phone, together with my inability to find an email address for them, and having received no response from @PurolatorHelp on Twitter, I have decided to turn to you, dear readers, for sympathy.

I ordered a desk online and it had been shipped via Purolator. I won’t even go into how Purolator takes 3 times as long to deliver things compared to other courier companies; I’m just going to vent about the delivery experience itself.

The day it was delivered a Penske truck pulled up and a very healthy-looking young man rang my doorbell and explained he had a delivery for me but it was too heavy for him to lift off his truck and he wanted me to do it. I’m NOT young (and I’m not saying how old I am – suffice to say MUCH older than him) and I have a bad back, so I explained that I was unable to assist and offered him the use of my dolly. He said he already had a dolly but it was too heavy to lift from the truck to the dolly.

I told him I thought it was being delivered by Purolator and he explained he was with Purolator (I think maybe they’re contracting out jobs, who knows). I finally said if it’s too heavy for you to lift, and since I’m unable to lift for you, I guess you’ll have to take it back and explain you’re unable to deliver due to the weight.

I think that confused him, but I wasn’t about to have a staring contest with him at my door, so I reiterated that he only had two choices – lift it off the truck himself or return it saying he was unable to deliver it, then I closed the door.

Five minutes later I heard noises outside my door and he had just finished putting the large box on my porch. The young, healthy man who had said the package was too heavy to lift off the truck to his dolly, had managed to bring it to my front porch, sans dolly.

So what was the problem? Was he really unable to deliver it? Is Canada Post outsourcing to incompetent individuals, or was this one individual so lazy that he tried to get an older, injured lady to do his job. What would happen if he was delivering to somebody in a wheelchair or walker?

Companies that take orders online for delivery take note – FedEx and UPS are willing to work harder for your business than a company like Purolator.

Are you listening @PurolatorHelp?

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This poem by Suzette Seveny is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.

 

 

Categories
Poetry

This Is Not Life

They asked if I was depressed
and I told them the truth;
of course I am –
how could I not be.
Humans are social creatures
and I am a human,
therefore I am a social creature,
and now I’m forced to live my life
In front of these monitors.
I can only see other people and places;
I cannot touch,
I cannot feel,
I cannot taste
or smell.
This is not living.
A robot in my chair
would be more productive –
and it would never get depressed.
Of course I am depressed I said;
how can I be otherwise?

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This poem by Suzette Seveny is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
Categories
Poetry

Growing Pains

A poet deaf, a poet blind,

Just writing poetry of the mind.

It really doesn’t mean a thing;

A poem to write, a song to sing.

A woman strong, a woman tall;

A woman tow’ring over all.

She doesn’t know now what to say;

She just grows stronger every day.

Creative Commons License
This poem by Suzette Seveny is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
Categories
Poetry

The Dishes

I’m sitting and thinking about doing the dishes.
I don’t need to do them all at once;
I can do a few and then take a break.
The water will probably need changing anyway.
That new dish soap looks more attractive, but it’s not as good
And I need to use much more.
In the time I’ve been thinking about this,
I could have started the dishes.
I really should get the dishwasher fixed;
I’ll try to remember to call on Monday.
At least I sent a message to the guy who did my floors,
So he can quote on my stairs.
I hope he’s been okay through all of this;
It’s hard when you’re starting your own business,
Being self-employed during a pandemic,
With a wife and kids to help support.
This situation has hurt so many.
We need to figure out a better way
To deal with these situations in future,
Because it’s going to happen more often –
So the experts say
And it does look that way,
With SARS and H1N1
And now this COVID-19.
Damn, I could have finished the dishes.

Creative Commons License
This poem by Suzette Seveny is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
Categories
Poetry

In Hiding

I loved a man and then I lost;
And now I have to pay the cost
Of life alone in Solitude;
A constant dark’ning of the mood.

It’s not the loss that I can’t face
But haunting mem’ries of loving days;
So filled with lies and subterfuge;
T’would make another want to lose.

Perhaps I trusted much in haste.
Now I stand amidst the waste,
Trying to face reality
And slay the dragons to set me free.

But still I’m bound with all my chains,
While I’m learning to cope with all the pain
And this agony I feel inside;
But there is no haven – I cannot hide.

Originally written on May 16, 1984

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This poem by Suzette Seveny is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.
Categories
Life Poetry

A Defining Moment

There is a defining moment in everyone’s life,

When we see things as they really are.

When the veil of confusion and darkness is lifted

And Truth stands before you.

Blinding you.

It will not be ignored nor pushed aside

It cannot be denied.

Eyes now open, they cannot close.

Truth may blind you, it hurts you so

But there’s nowhere you can go.

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.

Categories
Fiction Life

Forever

This story is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to any person or place is unintentional.

It was a windy October day, and she stood at the edge of the park, lost in her own thoughts. She was alone in the park and she watched the empty swings swing back and forth, their chains rattling in the wind. The day matched her mood – solemn, reflective, and overcast. The clouds above made the park seem grey and dingy. Each leaf falling from the trees seemed like a final pirouette through the air towards its inevitable demise.

She used to bring her son here when he was younger and he would squeal with delight as she pushed him gently on a swing.

“Faster Mommy” he would cry, “I want to go higher, I want to FLY!”

Nothing scared him; and he laughed his way through childhood, through school and soccer, through life. He loved playing soccer and he brought an exhilaration to the game, running faster, jumping higher, almost flying. It was hard to keep your eyes on him.

Today was the anniversary of the day he went away. She still felt the ache in her chest, the pain of not having her ray of sunshine. She knew that with time she’d learn to accept it, and that it would get easier, but she couldn’t believe it yet. It felt as if she’d feel this pain forever.

Forever. That was how long he’d left her for. That road of no return. It was probably the only day in his life when he wasn’t laughing. The day she’d come home and found him hanging in his room. She hoped he was flying and laughing again, wherever he was.

Forever is a long time.

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This work is licensed under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial 4.0 International License.