Armour Against Love
I have a list of things to write about, but I seem to have lost my words for them. Instead, here is my guide to paying your tax in fourteen easy steps.
1. I did my tax last week. I was expecting a small refund, but instead the estimate suggested I would get a bill instead. Not a huge amount, but having to pay one hundred dollars when you're expecting to get one hundred dollars is a bit of a downer.
2. I received the official assessment yesterday, confirming the bill, so I thought I'd best pay it and get it out of the way. The assessment has details of how to pay electronically, so that should be but a few minutes' work. Easy-peasy.
3. I logged into my bank's web portal and entered the payment details. When I enter a new payee, the bank texts me a PIN to enter so I can confirm that yes, it's really me wanting to pay these people. This is what the bank did. I turned on my phone and waited. Nothing. I generated a new PIN. Nothing. I generated a third PIN. Nothing.
4. Now I looked closer, the phone was acting strangely. There were no messages on it at all. I tried sending one. Nothing. I tried making a call. A notice flashed up: Emergency calls only!. I tried calling it via the landline. The number you have called is disconnected. I looked at the account screen to check the balance, but the screen froze. I looked up the account balance online. This number is inactive.
5. That meant a trip into town to the Telstra shop. (In the wind and squalls, I might add. The weather today was fierce.) The girl there poked at the phone then looked up the phone's records online. "You deactivated on the sixteenth of August," said the first one. "That's today," I said, "and no I didn't."
6. Long story short, the SIM had something wrong with it, and somehow me turning it on this morning had caused it to deactivate itself. The girl sorted out a new SIM.
7. Back home, I logged back into the banking portal. Before I could pay the tax bill, I had to update my new phone number to get the PIN texted to me. I went to Settings. To update your phone number, please call our helpline.
8. I called the bank's helpline. Please enter your phone banking password, followed by the hash key. I don't have a phone banking password. If you don't have a phone banking password, press the hash key. I pressed the hash key. I pressed 4 to speak to someone about something other than the first three options. I pressed 2 to speak to someone about updating my records. A recored message told me they were experiencing a higher than usual volume of calls. Had I thought about looking up whatever I was looking for on the web portal? My call was important to them. All their operators were busy.
9. After twenty-five minutes, I got to speak to a friendly person. I confirmed my date of birth and address. "Sure, I can update the phone number for you," she said. "I just need your phone banking user name." I don't have phone banking. I've never had it. "Oh, no, sorry, you'll need to go to a branch." I suggested, politely, that perhaps the banking portal needs to say that instead of telling people after they call, and she agreed that would be a useful thing for a customer to know.
10. I had lunch.
11. I went back into town (in the rain) to go to the bank, which is, per Google Maps, 200 metres from the Telstra shop I was at this morning. The teller updated my phone number.
12. One the way home the rain stopped so my mother, who had decided to come on this trip just to get out of the house, said, "Let's go see the whales." We drove out to the whale nursery and looked at the whales for thirty seconds until the rain came back and we ran to the car.
13. Driving out of the whale viewing area, we passed a pair of backpackers walking in the rain, holding hands with their other hand each holding their jacket hoods on their heads. It's a long walk back into town from the whales, and they were looking pretty miserable. "Oh, pull over," said my mother, then rolled her window down. "Get in, get in." They got in. They were Alessandro from Italy and Bernice from Singapore and they were thrilled to get a lift. We drove them back into town.
14. Back home again, I logged back into the bank portal, checked that my new phone number was listed, generated a text with a PIN, and finally paid the tax. It would have been quicker to take cash and pay the bill at the Post Office, which is right next to the Telstra Shop.
1. I did my tax last week. I was expecting a small refund, but instead the estimate suggested I would get a bill instead. Not a huge amount, but having to pay one hundred dollars when you're expecting to get one hundred dollars is a bit of a downer.
2. I received the official assessment yesterday, confirming the bill, so I thought I'd best pay it and get it out of the way. The assessment has details of how to pay electronically, so that should be but a few minutes' work. Easy-peasy.
3. I logged into my bank's web portal and entered the payment details. When I enter a new payee, the bank texts me a PIN to enter so I can confirm that yes, it's really me wanting to pay these people. This is what the bank did. I turned on my phone and waited. Nothing. I generated a new PIN. Nothing. I generated a third PIN. Nothing.
4. Now I looked closer, the phone was acting strangely. There were no messages on it at all. I tried sending one. Nothing. I tried making a call. A notice flashed up: Emergency calls only!. I tried calling it via the landline. The number you have called is disconnected. I looked at the account screen to check the balance, but the screen froze. I looked up the account balance online. This number is inactive.
5. That meant a trip into town to the Telstra shop. (In the wind and squalls, I might add. The weather today was fierce.) The girl there poked at the phone then looked up the phone's records online. "You deactivated on the sixteenth of August," said the first one. "That's today," I said, "and no I didn't."
6. Long story short, the SIM had something wrong with it, and somehow me turning it on this morning had caused it to deactivate itself. The girl sorted out a new SIM.
7. Back home, I logged back into the banking portal. Before I could pay the tax bill, I had to update my new phone number to get the PIN texted to me. I went to Settings. To update your phone number, please call our helpline.
8. I called the bank's helpline. Please enter your phone banking password, followed by the hash key. I don't have a phone banking password. If you don't have a phone banking password, press the hash key. I pressed the hash key. I pressed 4 to speak to someone about something other than the first three options. I pressed 2 to speak to someone about updating my records. A recored message told me they were experiencing a higher than usual volume of calls. Had I thought about looking up whatever I was looking for on the web portal? My call was important to them. All their operators were busy.
9. After twenty-five minutes, I got to speak to a friendly person. I confirmed my date of birth and address. "Sure, I can update the phone number for you," she said. "I just need your phone banking user name." I don't have phone banking. I've never had it. "Oh, no, sorry, you'll need to go to a branch." I suggested, politely, that perhaps the banking portal needs to say that instead of telling people after they call, and she agreed that would be a useful thing for a customer to know.
10. I had lunch.
11. I went back into town (in the rain) to go to the bank, which is, per Google Maps, 200 metres from the Telstra shop I was at this morning. The teller updated my phone number.
12. One the way home the rain stopped so my mother, who had decided to come on this trip just to get out of the house, said, "Let's go see the whales." We drove out to the whale nursery and looked at the whales for thirty seconds until the rain came back and we ran to the car.
13. Driving out of the whale viewing area, we passed a pair of backpackers walking in the rain, holding hands with their other hand each holding their jacket hoods on their heads. It's a long walk back into town from the whales, and they were looking pretty miserable. "Oh, pull over," said my mother, then rolled her window down. "Get in, get in." They got in. They were Alessandro from Italy and Bernice from Singapore and they were thrilled to get a lift. We drove them back into town.
14. Back home again, I logged back into the bank portal, checked that my new phone number was listed, generated a text with a PIN, and finally paid the tax. It would have been quicker to take cash and pay the bill at the Post Office, which is right next to the Telstra Shop.