Found the phone number

Please see Sunday evening's phone call for context.

I'd talked to mom on Monday morning--she was livid on Sunday night, and still going on on Monday about how she had no time for this but it would take me five seconds because it was three lines. I said, fine, if it's three lines, tell me those three lines in Russian and I'll type them up for you, right now. So after three lines, she started going on. and on. and on. I told her I was done at three lines. I sent them to her.

That's why she likes to write letters: she doesn't want to resolve the problem; she wants to be witty and make a statement. Except that she lacks the tools, skillset to do so, and has to ask other people to do it for her (usually me). And I don't share her sense of wittiness ("no, mom, I'm not writing, "I'm too old for this.")

Anyway, I called last night.

A.: Did you send the three lines?
Mom: Oh, no. I found a phone number and called.

Of course. After all that.

And yet, you'd think if she had no one to call, she'd have found the phone number right away without wasting anyone else's time. I wonder how many fights I would pick if I could just have someone else take care of them for me. Someone write to ADT about their raising my rates even though I'm locked into a contract. Hell, someone write HP about what a piece of crap my new computer is. That's something I'm going to do anyway. Really.

Then she goes on. and on. and on. about how she's left Verizon again because she didn't like the router. And then about something else she bought that she had to go return.

I have to wonder whether she thrives on this stuff. I still don't think so, but I have to wonder.