things should WORK the way they are supposed to

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Seven for Sunday

This post began as a Five for Friday, but I got no further on that than bullet points to remind me what to write about. Then I got it mostly written at the car dealership yesterday morning, but never got to post it. So! Seven for Sunday it is. 

I Don’t Know Where My Soul Is, I Don’t Know Where My Home Is: Remember when I was complaining about the robin (or robins, I suppose?) who has been flinging himself into my office window all spring? Well, the solution I decided on was… waiting him out. Which has not worked very well, I am sure you are shocked to learn. 

This is my view from the comfy chair I sit in, instead of sitting at my perfectly good desk. I can see the bird in the reflection of the painting.

I started out feeling bad for this bird, being driven by biology to slam his body into glass at regular intervals. And I know he’s not doing it with the purpose of bothering me; he doesn’t care about me. But I feel like even a robin should be capable of learning to identify a futile action, no? He taps at the glass aggressively with his beak, he flaps his wings at the glass, he has never once encountered another bird. Like, at least shouldn’t he be able to determine, inside his little birdy brain, that the mysterious bird threat he keeps spotting is secured behind a transparent forcefield? Or shouldn’t he have figured out by now that his attacks are usually followed by me shaking the blinds at him, which must be startling, at the very least, because it does get him to fly away?

Also, there is bird poop on my office windowpanes now. 

It is starting to feel very Edgar Allen Poe-ian over here, where I am now trying to figure out what the bird and his repeated appeals for my attention are telling me. What does it all MEAN? 

My daughter had the idea to set up her stuffed hawk on top of the blinds, but that did absolutely nothing. If anything, now the bird feels as though there’s A Real Threat encroaching on his territory. So my daughter added a stuffed tiger to the top of the blinds, which has had zero effect. I don’t think midwestern robins have any clue what a tiger is, to be honest, not to mention IT’S A STUFFIE. 

Sentinel hawk, reporting for the night watch. My chair has seen better days.

Anyway, my husband has decided enough is enough and we’re going to explore some of the very reasonable options you all shared with me last time. Perhaps the robin isn’t the only creature slow to learn that doing the same thing over and over will not result in a different outcome. 

Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough: I am Very Late to the Cool Bloggers Walking Club party, but I have serious FOMO. Plus, I do want to walk every day, and having this extra little motivation can only help. While I am not opposed to walking on the treadmill, I prefer to walk outside. And my new neighborhood is full of fun things to see on walks. 

A couple of weeks back seemed to be prime egg-laying season for the geese, and for a moment it felt like there were eggs EVERYWHERE. I can’t tell if geese were of the I Didn’t Know I Was Pregnant ilk, dropping offspring in the goose equivalent of the grocery store parking lot, or if the eggs had been diverted from their nests by foxes/hawks/squirrels, but it was kind of an odd experience to be walking along and then come upon an egg. 

I have also seen a teensy little snake and a turtle. 

The snake was very small, maybe four to six inches long. And the turtle was not interested in being photographed, and tucked her head into her shell the instant I pulled out my phone.

Tossed Salad and Scrambled Eggs: Speaking of Elisabeth, in addition to inspiring more regular walking, she has also inspired me to revisit one of my favorite series: Frasier. I started it on the treadmill earlier this week and it is such a delight. I hazard to say that the Frasier pilot is one of the most perfect pilot episodes of all time. 

The only thing I dislike about Frasier is that the title character is supposed to be 41. (Incidentally, Kelsey Grammer was only 38 when he filmed the pilot.) Considering that I am FORTY THREE, I find it a little horrifying to see myself as part of Frasier’s cohort. He’s much more… mature than I am, that’s for sure.

I refuse to accept that this man is younger than I am by FIVE YEARS.

You Change Your Mind Like a Girl Changes Clothes: As of Thursday, our furnace and air conditioner have been repaired! And neither of them needed to be replaced! It did take a while, though, and I have a renewed irritation with our HVAC company’s communications system. It is STUPID. This is a very long and boring segment, FYI. If you want to skip it, rest assured that you have gleaned the key theme already, which is “It is STUPID.”

To contact the HVAC company, you call a central number and speak to a customer service person. (And by the way, they have a ridiculous scripted answer to their phone calls, something along the lines of, “How can I make your day great?” that sounds so dumb and disingenuous and also, like, fixing my A/C will most definitely make my day better, but nothing you can do, HVAC CS Agent, will make my day great.) You tell the agent why you’re calling. If you want an appointment, they put in a request for an appointment, and then a dispatcher calls you back and sets up the appointment. There is no way to directly schedule an appointment, or to talk directly to the technician who will complete the service/repair. There is no way to get directly to a dispatcher. If you miss the dispatcher’s return call, because you called during the one free period in your day, and they call back when you are in a meeting, you have to call the customer service agent again, and they leave a message for the dispatcher, and the whole phone tag thing starts all over. IT IS SO STUPID. Why is their system like this???? 

I got my initial appointment last Monday. After waiting ALL DAY, two people (a technician and a site manage) arrived to examine the air conditioner. My wonderful father was able to come to my house so I could go pick up Carla from school, because of course the HVAC people showed up right as I was pulling out of my garage. They determined what was wrong with the A/C and furnace (a rodent had chewed through the wiring to the intake valve, which prevented both appliances from working) (FRICKING RODENTS), and found an additional issue with the A/C (needed a new contactor, not that I know what that is; my dad seemed to think it was legit), and said they didn’t have the part on the truck but had it in the warehouse, so they would be back the next day. Except they couldn’t tell me when they could come back, or even if they would be the technicians to return: I had to call first thing the next morning and get an appointment. 

When I called the next morning, the customer service person said he could see that the part was in stock and that I was on the schedule for that day, I just needed to wait for dispatch to call me to confirm a time. No one called all day, so I called back and spoke to a different customer service agent. It turns out there was a hold on my appointment, which a completely different customer service agent said she suspected was because maybe the part wasn’t available? I told her that the technician had said it was, and the customer service agent I’d spoken to that morning said it was, and she said, “Well, did you confirm that it was really in stock?” Um. NO? How would I do that beyond talking to people who would supposedly know the answer?

Anyway. I told her I was unavailable the next day, but would be available Thursday morning. She said she would put a note in my file to have the work scheduled for Thursday and have dispatch call me on Wednesday. I said I would be in and out of meetings and wouldn’t be able to take the dispatcher’s call if they called while I was in a meeting. I asked if I could get a direct number for the dispatcher, so I didn’t have to do the customer service step. Nope. But! She could have the dispatcher text me, so I could communicate with her directly. Great.

No one called or texted me on Wednesday. In between meetings, I called the central number and went through the whole customer service, wait for a dispatcher to call back rigamarole. When I finally connected with the dispatcher, she said I was on the schedule for later that day! Well, as I told the customer service person yesterday, I was not available later that day (there was an event at Carla’s school). Finally she was able to get me scheduled for the first appointment on Thursday. Which turned out to begin at nearly noon, and the guy was not finished before my two o’clock meeting so I left him a tip and a notepad while I went to my meeting (fortunately, it was on Zoom) and he finished up and wrote me a very thorough report before he left. 

We were very fortunate that it was pretty cool all week. I am not going to lie: I woke up every night in a puddle of sweat, but the thermostat read only 75, so that may be more of a perimenopause thing than an HVAC issue. Hard to say. And now, everything is FIXED, even if the company’s system is BROKEN.

It’s All One World in Which We Live, So Understand and Try to Give: It’s a teeny bit early for me to be thinking about teacher gifts for the end of the school year, but I have two reasons for thinking about them already. 

Usually I give money to our class parent, who puts it toward a gift card for our teachers. But this year, Carla’s teacher has been so involved in her life, I want to do something special. The obvious gift is a Stanley, right? I feel like it will so perfectly encapsulate this teacher’s experience of teaching fifth grade this year. And we can personalize it. So now I have to decide if I personalize it with her name (probably her last name, right? That way she can bring it to school without all the kids calling her by her first name, or she can give it to her own kid if she wants nothing to do with it) or with some sort of phrase that makes her think about this year/this class/my kid. I will probably go with her surname, but I WANT to be the kind of person who comes up with some meaningful quote that will make her heart swell every time she uses the Stanley. Anyway, this is why I am thinking about it NOW; I need time to order it and have it arrive.

The other reason I am thinking about gifts is that I have somehow “volunteered” to be the person in charge of an end-of-year celebration for one of Carla’s extracurriculars. There are two instructors who lead this program, and I want to get them each the same thing (with, perhaps, variation in color). My mind went immediately to Stanleys, but Carla reported that one of the other kids in this extracurricular told her with great authority that one of the instructors HATES STANLEYS. Which I get. So. Stanleys are out. But that leaves… what???? I don’t want to do gift cards for Reasons, but I am not sure what a good alternative would be. And I’m running out of time, because this program ends at the beginning of May. (Lest you think I have been procrastinating, I was just wrangled into this role last week.)

A Bushy Bushy Blonde Hairdo: It is once again the time of year when I begin gently stressing about Carla’s birthday party. We already have the Big Gift planned: as I mentioned/fretted about before, I have scheduled an appointment for her to get her ears pierced. Her pediatrician will be doing the ear piercing, as I figure it would behoove me to be in a medical establishment just in case I pass out from seeing someone create dual apertures in my child. 

Since Carla’s birthday is on a Saturday, and since we are planning on a pool party, I figured I would schedule her ear piercing for the following week. (It probably isn’t IMPOSSIBLE to go swimming after you get your ears pierced, but it is a complication I don’t want to deal with. Plus, this way, Carla can back out if she decides being hole-punched is not as good an idea as she originally thought.) Swistle mentioned this ear piercing aftercare spray, and I think I will get a bottle of it, wrap it up nicely, and that will be how she learns about this present. 

Anyway! Party! I asked Carla what the theme of her party should be, and/or what color she wanted her cake, and after some thought she said, in Ken-style deadpan, “My theme is just beach.” So. That seems both easy to interpret in a bunch of different directions and too vague, but I am going to run with it. Maybe the kids will get beach balls as their favor? (I would do towels, but one of Carla’s friends gives out towels as a birthday favor and Carla doesn’t want to copy.) Or sunglasses? Flip flops? Although that might be tricky, without knowing each kid’s shoe size. I want it to be a summery, beach-adjacent gift that isn’t too expensive and can be used even without access to a pool/beach. 

The food will be a taco bar. I think I may need to borrow crockpots from a couple of friends, so I can have ground beef and shredded chicken and black beans. But tacos seem like a pretty safe bet – or, at least as safe as pizza, which neither Carla nor her best friend will eat, and which is the standard Birthday Party Meal around these parts.

The lifeguard has been secured, and she will bring her own life-saving equipment. I just need to provide a chair. A rather big issue to solve will be what to do in case of rain. I could have a dozen children in my basement, but I would rather not. That’s probably what will happen, though. 

Now that the big things have been decided, I can turn my attention to cupcakes. Carla requested a color scheme of blue and tan, which… well, I will feel free to jazz that combo up with additional colors. She also mentioned wanting either an umbrella or flip flops on her cupcakes. These cupcakes look a little fussy to make, but very cute. These beach cupcakes look much simpler, and are also very cute. I could always get some flip flop cupcake toppers to add on.

Target has cute beach-themed dinnerware. I think this could be a lot of fun. Especially because no real sand will be involved.

I’ve Given You Sunshine, I’ve Given You Dirt: Yesterday included a sports event (Carla’s), a visit to the car dealership (my windshield wiper fluid should no longer leak!), a playdate at our house (also Carla’s), a bunch of laundry (2/5 loads have been washed and dried, 0/5 have been folded, although I did manage to replace the sheets), and some very gentle progress toward buying some of the furniture we want to buy but have been postponing (we did not buy anything, once again, but we did re-measure and re-confirm that we want to buy a specific bookshelf from Room & Board). 

When it seemed as though Carla, newly divested of her friend, and my husband were happily doing their own things, I decided to drive to the garden center.

Firstly, garden centers can be FANTASTIC for fun gift-y browsing. The one I went to was AMAZING and I found myself drooling over plant stands and cheese trays and kitchen towels and wind chimes long before I even saw a plant.

Secondly, I am in full-on I Want to Plant Things mode, which is a mode that feels deeply unsatisfying because I am a) cheap and b) indecisive and c) black thumbed. But oh! how I love visiting the garden center and imagining all sorts of plants in and around my home. Am I person who could grow golden raspberries? I sure hope so! Do I need a malus purple prince flowering tree? I think I do! What kind of fern would work best in the sunroom (which has no furniture, and so is less of a “room” and more of a “holding space” for various things we haven’t felt up to tossing yet)? Hard to say because I have never dealt with ferns! Should I try to grow a bunch of veggies again this year? I am desperate to do so, but… HOW desperate?

I took a bunch of photos of all the things I want to buy (and of their price tags; yikes) and I think I finally made One Decision, which is that I want to buy two Dwarf Alberta Spruce (spruces? sprice?) to put in large containers on either side of our front door. It would be nice to have something green there all year long. I wouldn’t have to worry about planting flowers each spring, but it would still be inviting and elegant. And around the holidays, I could wrap them with fairy lights! The garden center person who asked if I needed help tells me that the only problem with putting them in pots is that their roots are in danger of freezing in the winter, so I might want to bring them inside. Hmmm. I will sleep on it. 

In the meantime, I picked up a new friend. Meet Alien (“Because it’s green!” says Carla.), our new Venus flytrap. I hope it enjoys moths.  

That’s all I’ve got for you, Internet. Passover begins tomorrow, and we have been lucky enough to be invited to a Seder with dear friends. Hope you have had a restful, bug-free weekend. 

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Banking Bureaucratic BS Rant

If you are up for feeling ranty about something completely inconsequential in The Grand Scheme, please join me for a VERY long and ranty rant. I am Super Peeved right now, so I am putting it all down here and releasing the peevedness into the universe so that it will leave me alone.

Our final payment for our car was due on Tuesday. We exchanged that car for a new car the previous Saturday, meaning that we did not need to make the final payment. But we forgot that our automatic online bill pay system was on top of things, and was ready to make the payment for us.

The instant we realized this – middle of the nightish Monday – we figured out how to stop the payment. I called the bank on Tuesday, first thing, and they stopped the payment. We could see in our account that the money briefly left… and was then returned.

Great. Easy peasy.

Wednesday, we received an email from the car company saying thank you for your payment. Sigh.

I called the bank and explained what happened. Nope, they said. We can see that you stopped the payment. See? Right there? In your account? It was stopped.

Okay, great.

Yesterday: An email from a Third Party Online Bill Pay Service, which pays bills for our bank. They had submitted the payment to the car company, but our bank would not release the money to pay them. Because we had, you know, STOPPED THE PAYMENT. So our online bill pay service is now suspended and we are on the hook for the money that they paid, even though we supposedly stopped the payment. (The bigger of the two issues is the suspended bill pay service. We have four automated bills coming up before the end of the month, and, okay, I guess if the solution is “just write four checks” it’s not THAT big of a deal. But it is ANNOYING.)

(I have not yet called the car company, to see if they can simply RETURN THE MONEY for the car we no longer own.)

I called the Third Party Service. I sat on hold for 17 minutes (yes I am counting because I am PEEVED) before someone answered. She was polite but not friendly. I explained my issue to her. She needed my social security number and email address and birth date and verified that she could not see any issues.

But… I got this email, I told her. An email that says our service has been suspended.

Nope. She can’t see that there is any issue with my bill pay service.

But… this email.

We went round and round for a bit. Finally, I asked her if the fact that the email went to my husband’s email address was significant. Aha. Yes. Apparently, even though the money with which we pay our bills comes from a joint account, my husband is the one who set up the bill paying system under his name and social security number. Therefore, I cannot make any sort of decisions for the online bill paying system. My husband needs to be the one who calls.

Sigh.

Me: Okay, what are your hours?

Third Party: 8:00 to 5:00. In fact, we are closed right now. [What? Why did they answer then?] [Also, it was past six, so they must have been operating out of a different time zone, which is kind of a relevant detail.]

Me: Well… My husband is not available during those hours. So what kind of information can I get you that would allow me to talk to someone about this issue?

Third Party: Sorry. Only your husband.

Me: But he isn’t available.

Third Party: He doesn’t have to “be available.” All he has to do is get on the phone at the same time, WITH YOU, and confirm that you can handle this without him. [I am paraphrasing.]

Me: I’m so sorry, I must not be being clear. My husband is at work during the hours you mentioned. He cannot make a phone call during that time.

Third Party: He doesn’t have to MAKE A PHONE CALL. He simply needs to be ON THE PHONE while you are on the phone so he can authorize you to take over.

At this point, my frustration boiled over. My voice got high pitched and shaky. I was near tears. I told her how I knew it wasn’t her fault, but I was really frustrated, we had stopped the payment in advance, this shouldn’t be an issue, and we have a JOINT ACCOUNT FOR PETE’S SAKE, I have as much say over the disbursal of the money in that account as he does, so WHY can’t I talk to someone about fixing this problem?

She repeated a) that they are now closed and b) that he doesn’t have to be AVAILABLE, he just has to be on the phone with me long enough to give them permission to talk to me.

So I thanked her, hung up, wrote a bunch of all-caps texts to my husband (who, at 6:37 pm was STILL AT WORK because that is how things are for some people, in fact, for LOTS OF PEOPLE, this can’t be the first time a human has needed to conduct routine business during non-business hours?!?!?!?!), and called the bank.

My thinking is: I called the bank on Tuesday and stopped the payment. Whatever happened next is THE BANK’S FAULT and they should fix it.

My call with the bank started well. The customer service rep was very friendly and nice.

I confirmed with him that we had stopped the payment. Yes, we had. Then I told him my whole sob story, including that Third Party wouldn’t let me untangle the mess and I hoped that he, Bank Guy, would be able to fix it, considering that it was something that happened AFTER I called the bank to stop this payment.

He was totally going to help me. He first did some sort of poking around in the background and then explained to me that only my husband had enrolled in the online bill pay service, which was therefore tied to his social security number. I was not enrolled in online bill pay at all, he informed me. So for obvious security purposes, Third Party couldn’t deal with someone who wasn’t my husband. He said it had nothing to do with our having a joint account. I found this information useful and thanked him.

Then he started… talking around the situation. Saying things like, “And they were saying that they needed to talk to your husband because it’s his information, and then he could easily tell them that it’s okay for you to handle the rest of the conversation.” And, “It’s totally frustrating that things like this happen, ma’am.” And, “You did everything right on your end and it seems like things got a little mixed up.” You know, being really empathetic and showing that he understood the situation. 

Finally, I figured out that he was no longer just trying to be nice. What he was saying was, HE couldn’t help me. (I literally had to ask him, “Are you saying that you cannot help me reinstate my suspended account?”) I still had to deal with Third Party. Which meant that I still had to somehow get my husband on the phone between 8:00 and 5:00. 

I lost it a little. Not angry – just, you know, high pitched voice, shaky, sweating, near tears. Delightful. And I told Bank Guy that my husband CANNOT MAKE THAT WORK. He is NOT AVAILABLE. And I also said, “I did the right thing, right? What happened after I stopped the payment? Why did it not actually STOP?” And he gave me some B.S. answer about how the Third Party system must have gotten confused. I tried to say, Well, since I STOPPED THE PAYMENT, then I think it is up to the bank and the Third Party Bill Paying Service to work it out.

That is when his tone shifted. Nice, patient, empathetic Bank Guy was done with me. He started speaking very slowly and loudly.

“Just to clarify, your husband doesn’t actually have to be on the phone,” he said over and over. (Which, what? YES HE DOES, that is exactly what you are saying.) “He can be on a three-way call with you, and tell Third Party, ‘you can talk to my wife.’” 

“He isn’t available during the hours they are open,” I said.

“I’m QUITE SURE HE GETS A LUNCH BREAK, MA’AM,” the guy said, very slowly and loudly.

At that point, I took a very deep breath, thanked him, and said goodbye. 

Listen. I am not saying that my husband deserves special treatment. He does not! But I AM SAYING that there are probably LOTS OF PEOPLE who are not available between those very specific hours, and that it is ridiculous that they cannot talk to me and YES I KNOW SECURITY CONCERNS BLAH BLAH BLAH I AM JUST MAD, OKAY? 

And I am not exaggerating about his availability! My husband has seventeen patients tomorrow. If he gets to eat lunch on any given day, and that is never certain because he is almost always running late, he scarfs it down between phone calls to patients, or while he is reviewing pathology reports, or while he is writing his patient notes and recommendations. Sometimes in a day he does not get to use the bathroom. He typically leaves the house at sixish and comes home around eightish. This is just how it is.

But, just to realllllly address the skepticism, let’s say he HAS a free five minutes. Is there a guarantee that we will get through to a customer service person in that small timeframe? NO. And do you REALLY think that they are going to let him bark, “Talk to my wife” into the phone and leave? NO. He will have to do all sorts of identification verification stuff before they let him go. So even if he could find a few minutes during his LUNCH BREAK – OMG I am apoplectic about that phrase for some reason – it’s not necessarily going to be enough time. 

PLUS – PLUS!!!! – there should be a SOLUTION other than “just make a three-way call.” What if he were out of the country? What if he were sequestered in jury duty? What if he were dead? (God forbid.) (I am being hyperbolic because I am PEEVED.)

I guess the moral of the story is that I need to be automatically ON EVERYTHING. But man is that frustrating! 

And also! Can we all agree that this is, in fact, THE FAULT OF THE BANK? That THE BANK should be working with the Third Party Bill Paying Service to figure out how to get them their money back? Because I STOPPED THE PAYMENT. I even called back the next day and confirmed it! And they verified it by looking at my account! 

I want THE BANK to call Third Party between the hours of 8:00 and 5:00 and DEAL WITH THIS. 

Man. This is why middle-aged white women get a bad rap, right? I am so worked up about this that I want to go nuclear. I want to call the bank and talk to A Manager. I want to immediately and forevermore remove all our money – checking and savings and money market account – from this bank to another bank. Maybe I am being entitled and unreasonable. But right now, my vision is so clouded by how INFURIATING this all is, that I can’t see that. 

My next call, as soon as they open, will be the car company which apparently got our STOPPED payment. Perhaps they can return it to the Third Party and everything will go away. 

Now I need to go take some calming breaths so I can talk to the car company without shrieking.

Edit: Now I have called the car company. The customer service person asked if my husband had authorized me to handle this — eternal screaming — and I said yes, and he said fine. Then he submitted my “request” to, you know, not accept money that we do not in fact owe them, to a “team” for “review” and told me that it should take 3-5 business days for us to get our check. He was by FAR the nicest customer service person I dealt with this entire time, but I could tell he was a little suspicious of my motives, even after I explained why I was so anxious to get the payment back.

Now I am going to go clean the bathrooms. There’s nothing like a little righteous anger for making it Very Satisfying to scrub toilets and shower pans.