Today has been a 1 step forward, 2.329 steps back kind of a day. The water is back on in the bathroom and the dripping is residual (or it was when I left at 8 this morning, thank goodness I own a lobster pot) but everything feels gritty and disgusting and there's no point in cleaning it up until all the repairs happen. Though I think I can throw that new toothbrush away tonight when I get home. I mean, that's not going to get any better. It's going to be a fight to get them to let me have my preferred handy person fix the walls and not the half-assed building guys. Well, no fight at all to let me do it just a fight to get them to pay for it. If they refuse I can try my homeowner's insurance but I've never used that before. Hell, I don't even know where the policy is because it's all wrapped up in the package that my mortgage broker got with my mortgage so I'll have to go through a whole new learning curve.
You know how I feel about forced learning.
I'd been slowly but steadily scraping away, cleaning my house and trying to erect some kind of life-sized balsa wood facade of adulthood. It seems clear now that 30 minutes of leisurely cleaning a day and a belief in the inherent goodness in the universe isn't going to get me to that goal. I don't care what Aesop says, that tortoise fixed the stupid race!
So then I grabbed the bull by the horns. I took my referral for a mammogram and I called, all by myself, to get an appointment. The woman said I couldn't have one until January because I'd already had one this January. Jesus Christ, I had a mammogram and didn't even remember it? Even I'm not that fucking crazy? Am I?
While I sputtered and ummed and wracked my brain to remember an extra breastal squashing that might have escaped my notice she checked the year on that date and we determined that I'm all clear. She had me in her computer system and knew the referring doctor so I didn't have to butcher the woman's name. So there's that one tiny indignity averted. Another doctor's appointment to tack on to the rest. It's on the 11th. I'm wondering if there's a time I can discreetly take a picture of the weird cake decoration nipple markers. Then I'm realizing that adults probably don't wonder that sort of thing. Or do that sort of thing. Or, ultimately, because that would be the point, share that sort of picture.
Oops.
My physical is today. I leave the office soon to get down there and hope the bomb scare in Times Square won't delay me much. Digestion, blood thickness and a dermatology referral. Someone help me remember I have to bring up those three things. OK? And when I do, will there be more appointments? Or will I just take 2 aspirin and not call him in the morning unless it's really, truly urgent?
Oh and did I mention my insurance premium goes up another $300 per month starting September 1st so I've had to pull the alarm bell here at work to get my insurance changed ASAP, too? I have. So add to the list of things I can pretend to do, "Explain the differences between health insurance packages and their relative merits."
Then, just now, right when I was going to end this on the appropriately introspective and melancholy note the phone rang and this conversation ensued:
"[last name redacted]?"
"This is [Kizz]."
"I have great news for you Ms. [redacted]! I have a great offer for you to reduce your credit card debt and..."
"I have to stop you and you guys probably need to adjust your records. I don't actually have any credit card debt."
"No credit card debt? No foreclosures?"
"No."
"Oh." but he rallies, "That's great to hear. You're doing great! Keep it up and I'll make sure we update our records."
So, there's my two steps forward. Quick, somebody put something heavy against my back so I don't start to slide!
Thursday, July 29, 2010
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I've been doing this dance since December 24th. The insurance. and repairs. and sewer. and plumbers. and insurance. and roof. and busted pipes. and leaking. and drywall. and two barshifts forward one piece of shit broken table backwards.
ReplyDeleteI get it.
I do.
and I do have credit card debt. So. next time that guy calls...give him my number.
i'm sorry your house is stinky and gritty. I wish I were there and I'd help you clean while we find your insurance thingy and curse adulthood. then we'd watch 90210 and eat frosted flakes and remember why adulthood is sometimes pretty awesome.
So sorry about everything! Although no one likes to live with open walls and ceilings, be sure to NOT fix them until everything inside is dry, or you could get mold, bugs ...
ReplyDeleteI hate those kind of blind sales calls where the person calling you pretends you already have an account with you, etc., they're evil and should be illegal. Just my 2 cents. Glad you were able to put the caller in his/her place! (And glad you don't have any credit card debt!)