In my revolution...

...telemarketers (and spammers) would be the first up against the metaphorical wall.

(No, no. I wouldn't really SHOOT them. Their phones, maybe. Their robo-dialers, certainly. The people, no. I'd probably have them go work on the communal rutabaga farm and see that they were clothed and fed.)

I went home at lunchtime, seeing as I teach all morning, then have a break until 4 pm, after which I teach until 6. And tonight, I have the added joy of the Church Women's meeting - a group of which I am pretty well the only non-retired member who has to be somewhere before 8 the next morning (which means that the others "pick a little, talk a little" until I stand up and say, "I have class at 8" very bluntly, and leave).

Also, last night was a bad night. ()$*&%ing perimenopause (which is what I am CONVINCED this is) wouldn't let me sleep. So I'm tired on top of it.

So I decided to try to grab a short nap, hoping that might help.

I'm lying down and the phone rings. (I wasn't asleep or I really would have to hurt someone). My first thought: oh crap, the only person who knows I'm at home is my co-teacher for the night class; something really must have gone pear-shaped and he needs me.

So I got up and answered.

And there was that telltale pause. That damnable pause. That pause that tells you you have just been tele-punk'd, that you have fallen prey to some telemarketer who somehow manages to slime through the net cast by the Do Not Call list.

And then the recording started:

"Do not be alarmed!" a falsely chipper female voice exclaimed, "But your warranty is nearly up!"

I really should listen to the damn thing all through, copy down the callback number, and report it to the FCC or somewhere. But rage gets the better of me and I slam the phone down after those first two sentences.

I know, some businesses can claim exemption based on "having done prior business." But this is a business talking about selling me an extended warranty on my car (if I remember from the one time I let it play nearly through). My car is 9 years old. There ain't no reputable company gonna sell me an extended warranty on it.

I think that telemarketers are the worst. Spam is next in line. And then junk mail - at least junk mail doesn't rouse you from sleep or pull you off the couch when the game's just getting good