TGIF

Really.  I made it, once again.  Or almost.  The day’s not over, let’s be honest.  But we live in hope. One of my clients has another acronym I like: So Happy It’s Thursday. That was quite apropos yesterday when I Did Battle With A Bank.  Of course they won, but to directly experience  the way things are getting done now is completely mind boggling. Just another element in this week that kept it feeling like a cross between being dragged behind the bumper of a speeding car and finally Seeing the Light.

The fun part of the week was deciding to be ordained through the Universal Life Church.  You may now refer to me as Reverend Boozilla Mom, Gentle Reader.   I can’t really explain why I did this, except that a big part of what I do is, in fact, about the life of the spirit, I am Decidedly Non-Denominational (as in not particularly one thing or another but some of all perhaps), and it (uh…see below) Seemed Like A Good Idea At The Time.  So far, it appears to have increased my patience quota by a tad.  So, that’s good.    A news flash just coming in, adding to the fun part of the week, is that We Have Tomatoes in our garden.   THAT really IS good news.

The not fun part of the week was, of course, the Banking Part.  Net net, I attempted to do some post towel-throw-in (see below) refinancing.  A minor sort of refinancing, in truth, but something that would help Team Boozilla make it through these “financially challenging times.”  Did not get what I asked for.  Did not get what I wanted.  Did not receive any communication from The Bank in Question about my application.  Received, in fact, bupkiss from them.  That is, until what to my wondering eyes should appear on my online banking statement but a strange transaction that could only be related to the Attempted Refinance. I think I did very well on the phone call, really.  Especially seeing as how I know the JERK  individual I finished the interlude on the phone with was probably making a higher hourly wage than I ever did as Slave Girl of the Divorce Court.   I know this how? I know someone who just got a job with a bailed out bank and is making a quite astonishingly goodly and high hourly wage, is how.  So, after smarmily telling me that yes, it WOULD be nice if the bank communicated with me about my application and told me what the —- they were doing, and that SHOULD be what they do,nono, just,  no, that isn’t what they do.  And of course they couldn’t give me what I asked for.   Oh, please.  Pretend you’re in front of the big library in Manhattan, the one with the lions? And the charming young man with a card table and three cups with dice under them?  And besides, what are banks for AFTER ALL.  Get.A.Grip.  So, net net again, there is a very tiny overall improvement with this new situation, with which I am trying to remain calm in the knowledge..uh…thereof.  I very much enjoyed the portion of our chat where I asked if I was going to have to pay for the call.  Well, yes, usually you have to “pay for the call when you talk to a human.”  Not, however, apparently this time.  Which just confirmed my overall sense of where the whole thing was going.  I think you know where that is.

Meanwhile, we are going to have a garage sale this weekend.  More like an earring sale, actually.  So it was odd going through all those old earrings and inadvertently reliving the occasions when I wore them.  I think it is best to just keep going in life, and not dwell on the past.  I’m hoping my collection will make its way out into the world and bring others the enjoyment it brought me.  There will also be some Sasha of London shoes, if you’re in the neighborhood!  Beaded high heeled boots, people.  Indeed, I was not always as you see me now.  The tomatoes help, though, in those tough moments when I think about the shoes I used to know.

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