In an effort to make you completely hate me (if you didn't already from the parked car thing), I have to tell you that I hung up on two people today.

Telemarketers. Man.

I have great sympathy for telemarketers. I know that some of them are teenagers, grateful to have any kind of job. I know that some of them are hardworking mothers or fathers, down on their luck, trying to bring in some extra cash to support their families.

Telemarketers of the world, I know this. I know you'd rather be doing something else, and that you hate your job.

But.

I do not need you calling me every half hour, whilst I am in the midst of attempting to edit the most boring document in the universe, to offer to refinance this house.

I do not need you to offer me the benefits of your daily newspaper.

I do not need your handyman services.

Nor do I require your sprinkler system.

And NO, I don't want to save any money. I don't want to be enlightened about the many, many ways I am tossing my money down the toilet. Let me live in ignorance. Please.

But above all, ABOVE EVERYTHING, the thing I absolutely cannot stand is when I pick up the phone and you say, "Hello, Mrs. D?"

Now, if I was Mrs. D, this might trick me into believing, for one half a nanosecond, that perhaps I know you and that the reason for your call is something other than you attempting to peddle your trivial wares to me. But since I am not Mrs. D, your addressing me as such only serves to raise my annoyance to an unspeakable level.

So yeah. Today I hung up on two telemarketers.

Yes, I know I could have at least said, "No thank you, I'm not interested," but after receiving three calls before noon, I preferred to dispense with the niceties. After all, I had very important work to do.

And an entry to post.