Apparently, my own personal "Friday the 13th" has decided to arrive four days late. I called this morning to get a doctor's appointment. They gave me one for 3:30 PM. They proceeded to call me at 1 PM and reschedule me for tomorrow morning, because the doctor I was supposed to see won't be in.

Then, my check never arrived for the two days' work I did last week. It should have been in today's mail. I called the temp service. Seems that the bakery I worked for on Monday and Tuesday has not sent back the signed time sheet to the temp service. I'm fed up. I worked those freaking two days and I deserve to get paid promptly for them. I will be on the phone every day to the temp service until this straightened out, mark my words.

Well, at least I can think of SOME good aspects of this day. Maxime Ouellet turns 22 today, and it's Barry Manilow's birthday as well. (In Barry's case, there is some debate about whether the birth year he has publically provided for all these years is accurate. He's either 60 or 57 today, depending on whose camp you belong to.) I hope THEIR June 17 is turning into a day even more terrific than they imagined.