Specifically, how a charge of $7.60 made my card balance go from $385.50 to $306.67.
I don’t think you need to do the math yourself to see that this does not add up.
Or subtract up. Whatever.
The point is that around $80 of my money has vanished and I kind of want it back. And there’s the website showing me my transaction history like that last one makes any sense (or cents) at all.
It’s off by $78.87, and that’s um…. not acceptable.
That’s not a fucking rounding error.
The wildcard… wait, it’s a Joker card, they’re all wild…
The randomizing unknown factor is that this last transaction is marked as “pending”. I don’t know why that would be. It’s just a small charge from DoorDash for a Jamaican beef patty I ordered from 7-11.
It was OK.
7-11 food : it’s still better than nothing, right?
Anyhow, when I called the 1-800 number, I quickly figured out that the goddamned voice menu is specifically set up to dangle the idea of getting to talk to a human being in front of your nose but never actually give you that option.
Must save them a lot of money on phone support workers. Because now they don’t need any. There is literally no way to talk to one.
I will try again later, when my seething rage has subsided.
It might be that pressing 0 in the right place will trick it into letting me talk to an actual (and presumably very surprised) human being, in which case, ha-ha, I MADE the system give me what I want. So there!
Fair warning, I’m a fox, and we’re VERY CLEVER.
Don’t fuck with the trickster. We will fuck you up and laugh about it.
Oh, and the kicker : the phone menu told me that you can’t dispute charges marked as “pending”. Well isn’t that convenient.
Now, this could all be perfectly above board and temporary. It could be that when a charge is (maybe) disputed, they withhold a bunch of money in case some of it is needed to resolve the dispute.
The dispute, I remind you, over $7.60.
And therefore it might just be a weekend thing. It might be that when the next business day begins (Tuesday), the transaction will go through and everything will be fine.
But I am still mad, because for fuck’s sake, why does life keep fucking with my money?
Oh, and before I forget…
I found my wallet
The wallet has been recovered. Crisis over.
Well, that one, anyhow.
Turns out that when I took my glasses off and put them on my CPAP machine like I always do, for some reason I put my wallet too, like very NOT usual.
These are the tricks I play on myself constantly. And I have to admire its creativity. I hid my wallet in plain sight but someplace I would never think to look for it because like, why the fuck would it be there?
Next time, I will know to look for it there. Which means it won’t be there, it will be someplace even more fiendishly bizarre.
I only found it when I went to put on my glasses. So there was very little chance of my not discovering it eventually.
Once more, I find myself wishing I had an assistant so that we could work together to minimize the times when I am a total dumbass.
All the more reason to try to get some online work next time I have the wherewithal to go back to FlexJobs.
It would be so lovely to have some genuine accomplishments to use as evidence against my tendency to think I am worthless and useless and terrible.
I mean, at times, I get so god damned sick of myself.
More after the break.
Wall of nausea
Speaking of which, I think I often feel like I am a horrible disgusting thing because that’s how I feel most of the time.
And that’s probably mostly physical. If I could once more stand up well enough to take showers, I am sure I would feel a lot less grotty.
I mean, my bed bath wipes are better than nothing but nothing beats a nice hot steamy shower to open up and flush out my pores.
And gods, do they need it. The wipes just can’t compare. I swear. I would pay $100 just to use one of those walk-in sit-down showers they have for seniors.
I’m only 51, mind you. But I am crippled far beyond my years.
Going back to how I feel about myself, I have known for a long time about how as human beings, we tend to unconsciously assume that if we FEEL bad, we ARE bad.
As if there was cosmic entity punishing us for our sins.
Like I said, it’s entirely unconscious, but extremely powerful, and I think it haunts the souls of everyone with any kind of long term chronic illness.
If a person is mentally healthy, the result is healthy self-pity. Why is this happening to me? they wonder. I don’t deserve this!
But if, like me, they are cuckoo in the coconut. with a very weak sense of self, they end up feeling like the way they feel is the way they are… and they feel awful.
And because, due to my high empathy levels, I have a mild problem telling where I end and others begin, I tend to also feel like everyone can easily see what a horrible sack of day old crap I am, and are horrified and repulsed by me, and angered beyond belief by the gall it must take to even think for one second I deserved to be around people.
Well okay, most of that is NOT physical. But it’s rooted in the physical feelings of being dirty and gross and awful.
And that leads into a whole other can of filthy worms where on a very sick level, I feel like it’s better to be dirty on the outside because when I am clean on the outside it throws just how dirty I am on the inside into sharp relief.
But that’s a tale for another time.
I will talk to you nice people again tomorrow.