Last post was before I discovered I couldn't sleep
I shouldn't be surprised.
I've been feeling down lately. I guess I should preface with that, since it no doubt impacted how I responded to what came next. It wasn't caused by anything specific, but depression usually isn't (I have mentioned that I was diagnosed with major clinical depression a few years ago, right? I was planning to write some big entry explaining it and why I no longer need meds to get out of bed and the like back in, I think '05, but I can't remember if I ever got around to it. If not, the short version is: I was diagnosed by my shrink in January of '02, given medication and some light therapy, started to get out more and do more things I liked, weaned myself off the meds and other than the occasional down day have been even and stable ever since. Now you know, and knowing is half the battle).
Anyway, the day I went to pay my rent, I checked the balance of my account and found close to $400 missing. Since I am occasionally dumb, my first assumption was that I had somehow spent it here and there on incidentals and frivolous stuff.
Then I went back to my account history and realized I don't live in L.A.
Yes, there was money going from my account to both Orlando and Califuckingfornia for a good chunk of February (bikutoria, did you know I was in Santa Monica the same day we spent 12 hours in the movie theater at Downtown Disney? I get around). My bank apparently didn't see the problem. The good news was obviously my bank has fraud services and I could get all the money back. The bad news was that takes time and RENT WAS DUE. Dani said she'd cover whatever I couldn't give her in cash immediately until I could. So I canceled my debit card and the next morning went to the bank first thing and filled out the fraud paperwork. What we think is that someone made a card with a duplicate strip, because there was no activity regarding any of my other personal information and every instance was at a gas station for amounts between $55-$75. I was told that I couldn't start the proceedings just yet because there was still a charge pending on my account, and that I should call the bank in a few days to be sure. So I went about my week and a few days later called to see what the status was. Yes, the final charge cleared, the woman told me. "So when can I expect the money back in my account?", I asked.
"Oh, you haven't filled out that paperwork yet, sir."
I asked what paperwork I did spend a good chunk of time filling out a few days prior. "Oh, all that did was alert us to the fraudulent activity and put a hold on your account. You still need to come in and fill out paperwork for each instance of fraud so that we can send your claims to Recovery."
By that time, I had to get to work, so I had to wait until the next day to go in and, yes, fill out paperwork for each and every instance of my account being fraudulently accessed. So I'm not going on nearly a week subsisting on what I have in my pocket after work, which isn't exactly consistent during the week. And it's not like I even work every day. I know most people could probably just put it out of their heads for a while to focus on work or things like that, but whenever I have something hanging over my head I can always feel it in the back of my mind, like a speck of dust in your eye.
With that informing my mental state, I had to make a run up to my folks' place to get the new tag for my car. I had a day off between arriving and when I next worked, so I was going to spend a day with them relaxing. My stomach, however, had other plans and decided not to keep anything down that day, so I slept through most of it. When I finally went to go to work, what happens next? My car doesn't start. Not a sputter. Not a click. Dead silence. So I had to call A) work and tell them I'd be massively late and B) AAA to come give me a jump. AAA assures me that one jump was all I needed, and that it would start up fine next time. So I drove back down to Orlando to go to work, and when I got there decided to start her back up just to be sure.
Nothing. Again. One jump works fine for Aladdin, not so well for my car. And of course everyone's an expert because their cousin works in a garage or they know a guy who knows stuff, so everyone's telling me what it is, each explanation costlier and more involved than the last. So I have to leave my car at work, find some way back the next day, get AAA back out, find out what the problem is, get it fixed if I can, and get back up to my folks because, oh yeah, I'd otherwise be missing my Mom's birthday. But of course I'm the one with the job that doesn't give real big-kid hours, so everybody's at work during the day and can't give me a ride (not your fault, guys, I understand). So I have to make the several hour bus trip across a distance that usually takes me 15 minutes to drive and wait out in the heat for AAA because you can't call and ask them to arrive at a specific time. The only positive note is that all I needed was a new battery and made it in time for Mom's birthday dinner.
That all sucks, you say, but it was all manageable. Was it really that bad? Sure, everything was easily taken care of, but the stress has left me with wicked insomnia and left my stomach all torn up. Both of which don't help my appetite. And it's been hard not to feel anything other than down and overwhelmed and lonely, so I've withdrawn a bit. But I am ok, not in dire straits or severely depressed or anything. Apparently March has just been bad all around as I've heard horror stories from a few friends. In summation, the "In like a lion" part sucks ass, and "out like a lamb" better hurry the hell up and get here.
I've been feeling down lately. I guess I should preface with that, since it no doubt impacted how I responded to what came next. It wasn't caused by anything specific, but depression usually isn't (I have mentioned that I was diagnosed with major clinical depression a few years ago, right? I was planning to write some big entry explaining it and why I no longer need meds to get out of bed and the like back in, I think '05, but I can't remember if I ever got around to it. If not, the short version is: I was diagnosed by my shrink in January of '02, given medication and some light therapy, started to get out more and do more things I liked, weaned myself off the meds and other than the occasional down day have been even and stable ever since. Now you know, and knowing is half the battle).
Anyway, the day I went to pay my rent, I checked the balance of my account and found close to $400 missing. Since I am occasionally dumb, my first assumption was that I had somehow spent it here and there on incidentals and frivolous stuff.
Then I went back to my account history and realized I don't live in L.A.
Yes, there was money going from my account to both Orlando and Califuckingfornia for a good chunk of February (bikutoria, did you know I was in Santa Monica the same day we spent 12 hours in the movie theater at Downtown Disney? I get around). My bank apparently didn't see the problem. The good news was obviously my bank has fraud services and I could get all the money back. The bad news was that takes time and RENT WAS DUE. Dani said she'd cover whatever I couldn't give her in cash immediately until I could. So I canceled my debit card and the next morning went to the bank first thing and filled out the fraud paperwork. What we think is that someone made a card with a duplicate strip, because there was no activity regarding any of my other personal information and every instance was at a gas station for amounts between $55-$75. I was told that I couldn't start the proceedings just yet because there was still a charge pending on my account, and that I should call the bank in a few days to be sure. So I went about my week and a few days later called to see what the status was. Yes, the final charge cleared, the woman told me. "So when can I expect the money back in my account?", I asked.
"Oh, you haven't filled out that paperwork yet, sir."
I asked what paperwork I did spend a good chunk of time filling out a few days prior. "Oh, all that did was alert us to the fraudulent activity and put a hold on your account. You still need to come in and fill out paperwork for each instance of fraud so that we can send your claims to Recovery."
By that time, I had to get to work, so I had to wait until the next day to go in and, yes, fill out paperwork for each and every instance of my account being fraudulently accessed. So I'm not going on nearly a week subsisting on what I have in my pocket after work, which isn't exactly consistent during the week. And it's not like I even work every day. I know most people could probably just put it out of their heads for a while to focus on work or things like that, but whenever I have something hanging over my head I can always feel it in the back of my mind, like a speck of dust in your eye.
With that informing my mental state, I had to make a run up to my folks' place to get the new tag for my car. I had a day off between arriving and when I next worked, so I was going to spend a day with them relaxing. My stomach, however, had other plans and decided not to keep anything down that day, so I slept through most of it. When I finally went to go to work, what happens next? My car doesn't start. Not a sputter. Not a click. Dead silence. So I had to call A) work and tell them I'd be massively late and B) AAA to come give me a jump. AAA assures me that one jump was all I needed, and that it would start up fine next time. So I drove back down to Orlando to go to work, and when I got there decided to start her back up just to be sure.
Nothing. Again. One jump works fine for Aladdin, not so well for my car. And of course everyone's an expert because their cousin works in a garage or they know a guy who knows stuff, so everyone's telling me what it is, each explanation costlier and more involved than the last. So I have to leave my car at work, find some way back the next day, get AAA back out, find out what the problem is, get it fixed if I can, and get back up to my folks because, oh yeah, I'd otherwise be missing my Mom's birthday. But of course I'm the one with the job that doesn't give real big-kid hours, so everybody's at work during the day and can't give me a ride (not your fault, guys, I understand). So I have to make the several hour bus trip across a distance that usually takes me 15 minutes to drive and wait out in the heat for AAA because you can't call and ask them to arrive at a specific time. The only positive note is that all I needed was a new battery and made it in time for Mom's birthday dinner.
That all sucks, you say, but it was all manageable. Was it really that bad? Sure, everything was easily taken care of, but the stress has left me with wicked insomnia and left my stomach all torn up. Both of which don't help my appetite. And it's been hard not to feel anything other than down and overwhelmed and lonely, so I've withdrawn a bit. But I am ok, not in dire straits or severely depressed or anything. Apparently March has just been bad all around as I've heard horror stories from a few friends. In summation, the "In like a lion" part sucks ass, and "out like a lamb" better hurry the hell up and get here.