ibeachalot's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- It never ends... What a day from hell I had yesterday. Jameson is already sick. He�s been back at school two days and already has a cold. I guess it�s inevitable in a school setting that cold germs are present. I�m actually surprised Evan isn�t sick already, too. When most kids get sick, they curl up on the couch, sleep and watch TV all day. Not Jameson. He whines. He whines and whines and whines and cries and fusses all day long. He wants to be held. He falls to pieces over the smallest thing (even more so than usual). Oh, and did I mention that he whines? Alot. Especially when he isn�t permitted to go to school. This throws a monkey wrench in the packing-and-preparing-to-have-a-garage-sale and move process. I rounded up some boxes and have been packing what I can and surprisingly, have only packed one thing so far that I needed later (an ebay invoice). When we moved from CA, I inadvertently packed my hair dryer, then couldn�t remember in which box I had packed it. I ended up buying a new one. So far, I�ve been smart (lucky) enough not to do that. We�ve stumbled across a slight problem with the apartment we�re renting. I think I mentioned that the dipshit employee leased us a townhouse that she wasn�t supposed to have leased to a short term tenant. Well, now the complex is trying to blackmail us. They say we either take the "garden" unit (which is a real estate term for "too small for a seedling, let alone a garden") or they�ll give us grief about our credit. Actually, Kevin�s credit is fine. It�s my credit they�re concerned about. Isn�t that a kick in the head? I don't earn a dime, but my credit is an issue. They want documentation that a bill still showing as unpaid on my credit report was indeed, paid. As if we don�t have enough paperwork to gather. Ironic how we are able to build a $260,000 home with no problem, but the pissant little $700 - something a month, short-term apartment complex wants to give me a complete rectal exam. I spent an hour on the phone trying to get proof that the aforementioned bill was indeed paid in full and the account closed. *Editor�s note* Don�t ever get a Capital One card. They�re bastards! After I jumped through hoops o� fire all morning to get this documentation, Kevin called and remembered that he had the paperwork all along. Motherfucker. Then I had yet another obstacle. Our mortgage payment. And it was all my fault. I use an online bill-paying service to pay all our bills. Somehow I mistakenly set the house payment for July to be paid on the last day of August. They started calling wondering why they hadn�t received their payment. I checked online and saw that sure enough, I had scheduled the payment on the wrong date. Since yesterday was the last day of the month, I had until the end of the day to make the payment or it would show as a 30-day late on our credit report - something we certainly don�t need while we build a new home. I called the mortgage company and told them I would like to do a "check-by-phone" payment. They told me if I did, it wouldn�t be posted until today or Monday. The only choice I had was to pay by Western Union. I looked online to see where the nearest Western Union agent was. Luckily, there was a partial service WU office at my favorite grocery store. I called to see if they took debit cards, so I wouldn�t have to take the kids into the bank with me. I can only retrieve $750 a day from the ATM, so I knew I couldn�t just get cash with which to pay the bill. I woke the kids up from their naps, which as you know, goes against all that is sacred and holy to me. I took them to the grocery store and prepared to pay my bill. First thing that happened was that the agent behind the counter told me I had to have a PIN number. Wha?? She said if I call Western Union, they�ll issue a PIN number for paying the bill. I left my cell phone in the car, so I had to use a pay phone, which was clear across the store. *NOTE - if you�ve never been fortunate to visit a Dierberg�s Market, allow me to mention that it is, without a doubt the most awesome store on earth. When my mother comes to visit, the first place she wants to see is this Grocery Store-Mahal, known as Dierberg�s. But unfortunately, it�s the size of Rhode Island. If you�re ever in the greater St. Louis area, I highly recommend visiting this store. I push the kids in the shopping cart across Rhode Island to the pay phones. By this time, Griffin is screaming bloody fucking murder because he�s in a regular cart, not the one shaped like a race car. Because I�m not able to hear a damn thing on the phone, I hang up, walk back across Rhode Island and found the highly coveted car cart. I�ve seen moms literally rip these desirable carts out of the hands of other moms. It�s nasty. But I got one and Griffin was appeased. I dragged my tired ass back through the lovely state of Rhode Island and once again attempted to make my phone call. I was placed on hold and subjected to muzak so loud, I was blown across the store. Once I regained my faculties, I reached a human being (in theory) who attempted to help me. I told her the amount of the wire I would need and she kept reading it back to me incorrectly. "One thousand four hundred eighty dollars... " I kept correcting her, "No, one thousand forty eight dollars... " She�d say, "That�s what I said, One thousand four hundred eighty dollars!" After I asked her just how stupid she was, she finally read it back to me correctly. I got my PIN number and made the treacherous walk back across the grocery store. The kids are now getting restless... and loud. I attempt to finally pay this stupid bill, only to find out there�s a limit to how much I can put on my debit card in one transaction. They try to break it up into two separate transactions, but it once again fails to be approved. The clerk told me I could get cash, make a partial payment in cash, then put the remainder on the debit card. I walked halfway across the state to the ATM only to be told, "We�re sorry, the ATM is down." The clerk back at the desk allows me to take out cash from the debit machine, in the amount of the bill minus the $700 I can put on the debit card. We run the transaction through again and once again... it�s declined. I�m almost in tears at this point. It�s now nearly 4:00pm and Evan is due off the bus. I tell the agent that I�ll be back later. (I�m sure she was thrilled at this news) I stop at my ATM on the way home and get the remaining $700. Thankfully, that wasn�t a problem. I got home just in time to catch Evan off the bus. Then back to Dierberg�s we went. By this time, the kids are all restless and bored and being very vocal about it. I give the agent the money and await the completion of the transaction. A receipt is printed out that says, "Unable to complete transaction" WAAAAA-AAAAHHH!!!! The employees of the store allowed me to pull the shopping cart behind the counter and call stupid Western Union from their phone. I�m of course, placed on hold. But first, I�m asked by a woman who barely speaks English, "Mem, can I pliss you on hote?" Oh feel free, but be sure to turn up the volume on the xylophone version of "Muskrat Love" first!! Upon her return, she asks me for a transaction number. I explain, while telling the children through gritted teeth to shut up, that I have no number because the transaction never took place. At one point, the clerk at Dierberg�s even took the phone from me and got in the WU agent�s face, explaining that I was trying to pay my mortgage payment and I had been inconvenienced enough. One clerk at Dierberg�s brought the kids suckers (probably in hopes that they�d shut up), and even came by with wet paper towels to clean their faces every so often. She disciplined Evan for provoking Jameson into screaming while I was trying to explain to the idiot at WU what was going on. I asked her if I could bring her home with me and watch the kids full time. Finally, the matter was concluded and we were on our way. I feel as if I owe a debt of gratitude to the clerks at the store for all their help. I wanted to hug every one of them. I loaded up my disobedient spawn and we headed for home. I called Kevin and told him what had happened and informed him that even though after paying this bill, we only have $32 to last us until payday, I was not cooking dinner. He agreed to bring home Sonic. Nothing like clogging your arteries after a stressful day of dealing with incompetence. Well, enough story telling for today, I must prepare things for my garage sale tomorrow. Wish me luck... 11:12 a.m. - 2003-08-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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