I’m in the process of trying to upgrade the recording side of things. About a month ago I upgraded to a newer version of Pro Tools, so I could use any audio interface on the market. This last week I bought a Rosetta 800. The guy was supposed to be in Chicago and I thought I might just go pick it up. I like getting out of town and swinging down to Chicago, maybe doing a little record-shopping with my friend Kyle (I picked up King Crimson’s Islands last week in Oak Park). But when I asked the guy, he said he was actually in Detroit for the holidays. I told him to just ship it. Should be here in a day or two, I figured.
And so earlier this week, the Rosetta began its journey from Motor City.
A couple days ago I checked the tracking number. Instead of nicely heading over to Muskegon, it was now inexplicably in Pennsylvania. For “sorting”, according to USPS.
The delivery date was today. When I got home, the porch was empty. I pulled up the tracking details. It is now back in Detroit, a stone’s throw from where it started. Go post office! You have successfully squandered the last week. Like a nuclear sub quietly trolling the north seas, my Rosetta has been aimlessly circling the rust belt states. Again, thank you post office.
Sorry if I sound grumpy and bitter about petty things. I went thrift shopping this afternoon and all ladies with all their massive carts blocking the aisles really put me in a foul mood.