I’m so HAPPY to be blogging again. I don’t think it would have taken long under the new frantic schedule before I would have figured something out. I remember managing to blog when Henry was a newborn, for example, and that was when the twins weren’t even 2 years old yet. Blogging only got dropped this time because I wasn’t physically near to a computer; if it had gone on much longer, I would have figured out the whole blogging-remotely system.
I’m also so happy because I made TWO hard phone calls this morning. It’s surprising to me that I still have to go through the math: “The phone call has to be made no matter what. So I can feel upset and scared about it for either a SHORT time or a LONG time. Short is less painful than long.” After doing the math, why do I so often choose MORE suffering? It is an enduring mystery.
Anyway, I had to call an investment company, because I had two accounts with them: one a custodial account with Rob, and one my own. And they were going to charge me $20/year unless I switched to paperless statements—which I was happy to do, but I couldn’t set up an online account for the second account because I already had one for the first account, and it was by Social Security number so it kept saying I already had an account. When I talked to the company the last time, the representative INSISTED that in order to merge the two accounts, I would need the manager of my bank to sign and notarize a document certifying my name change, because one account had my middle initials and the other did not. She INSISTED. I expressed doubts that a bank manager would be willing to sign such a form, considering I hadn’t changed my name. She continued to insist. She said that claiming “Swistle Thistle” and “Swistle R. W. Thistle” were the same person was exactly the same dicey situation as claiming “Swistle Margaret Thistle” and “Swistle Eloise Thistle” were the same person. She hinted that I might be trying to take over the account of someone else with the same first and last name who lived at my house. She sent me the form, which was five pages long and required, among other things, a copy of my birth certificate and a copy of the court forms for the name change. It was so maddening and frustrating, I decided to pay the $20/year: it’s only until Rob goes to college, and I would rather pay the fee than add ANOTHER horrible phone call to my Lie Awake catalog.
But then we got another letter saying we would now have to pay TWO charges of $20/year, because there is an accessory account to the main account, used for I don’t know what—I think for holding the money that doesn’t come to enough to buy another bond, something like that. It has $60 in it. It can’t be closed until the main account is closed. I would have to pay an additional $20/year on THAT account. So I called. THIS time I got someone who said, “Oh, no problem, we have a procedure for that. Let me just get some information from you on our recorded line. Do you want both accounts as Swistle Thistle, or both as Swistle R.W. Thistle? Okay, that will take 2-3 business days and I’ll call you when it’s complete.”
DEAR LORD.
The other call was for a medical billing thing, and all I could do was leave a message—but for this one, it’s enough to just get things going. Plus, I love leaving a message: I can say what I want to say without feeling like I need to hurry up. And then they have the information BEFORE they call me back, so theoretically they can be ready to discuss it and/or look into the issue FIRST. Theoretically.
Oh! They just called back, right after I hit publish! It was settled not entirely satisfactorily (a $35 copay when it should have been $20, with a workaround that makes no sense), but I WILL TAKE IT. And I was so high on victory, I also called to make the cat’s annual vet appointment! *dances like Elaine*
Hey, twinsies! This morning I just finished tackling a big stack of bills/insurance forms/related phone calls which I’d been putting off for like a month because for some reason I always procrastinate about that stuff until the mail stack is TEETERING. I don’t know that I have actual anxiety about it, because once I’m on the phone and dealing with it I’m FINE, and I always want to smack myself for not handling stuff sooner. But I just go in cycles of Avoidance and then Rolling Up My Sleeves and Getting Shit Handled. I’d rather scrub a hundred toilets than deal with insurance and medical bills though, for real. It’s just so tedious and full of mindless bureaucracy that I want to scream.
Now I am eating a waffle covered in jam to reward myself. :)
Wow, that is some stellar customer service right there. I hope that was the call recorded for quality assurance purposes.
I, for one, am so glad to have you back to blogging! If for no other reason than you have made me feel infinitely better about having put off a long, painful application process for a home rehab grant for a long, painful amount of time. I just finished it to my ability yesterday. A month after starting it. It required multiple phone calls, locating and copying copious documents, finding the mental fortitude, as well as the time to accomplish both.
I’m always so happy to get voice mail and then I ramble on like an idiot and I hang up full of despair that I’m 40 years old and can’t put together coherent sentences.
In the last week’ish, I’ve made appointments for my son at the oral surgeon & orthodontist, called the dealership about my car twice, and scheduled a manicure. I’m so happy to be going on vacation tomorrow. I plan to call NO ONE!
The investment company story has made me all twitchy. But! Complete! Hooray for you!!
Second.
I really prefer leaving messages to getting a person. (BUT only if they call back and I don’t have to keep calling!) When calling someone for reasons like those above, I often have to write myself a couple bullet points because I get flustered and forget half what I had to say.
This right here is why I have just been making car payments to an account tied to the wrong social security for FOUR YEARS. I can’t handle the stupid paperwork and the pointlessness and the 12 notarized copies of 43 different forms. Maddening.
Dances like Elaine, ha! I don’t mind talking on the phone at all, but I prefer email. I keep thinking of you and other people I know who really hate the phone lately, though, because I am trying to set up Medicaid for my son, which will ultimately lead to some respite care for us, or so I hear, and it all has to be on the phone. It’s such a pain in the ass, so 1978, I mean, my God! I sometimes say to the person, could I have your email address? and they act like I’ve asked if I could come over for dinner. Anyways, I feel you is what I am saying.
I recently had a similar experience with an Australian governmental agency, where for a month or so I was repeatedly uploading documents and then spending 20 minutes on hold when I called to ask if they’d received them this time, and was that everything now, and then FINALLY I got through to someone who said, “Oh yes, I see all of the documents here! The previous people mustn’t have been looking in [whatever the folder was called]. I’ll update that now.” And I was so HAPPY and RELIEVED that I spent the next month seriously considering training as a call centre person for this agency, just so that I could be exactly like that operator and always check that same folder and make other people feel as good as that call made me feel.