Tuesday, October 20, 2009

Paperless billing: Low on postage, high on anxiety

If you've met Jeffrey, my husband, you are then fully aware that he can get a little, er, tense.

For example, the Arizona Bar Exam, many many months away, is already giving him nightmares. Many would say, "Hey, that's understandable, it's a really big test."

Yes. Yes it is.

However, most students probably are worried about it, have some anxiety about it, and can move on. In fact, many students should have this level of anxiety about it as they are about as smart as our poodle but have thumbs and lucked out and filled in the right bubbles on the Scantron sheet.

Jeffrey, despite his demonstrated exceptional intelligence, continues to grimly prepare me for my potential future living in a cardboard box. (I just tell him we'll try to raid the Lowe's recycling area for a Sub Zero box so he'll fit. I'm very supportive.)

So today when I opened our cell phone bill and it was erroneously reporting that we owed the carrier one bajillion dollars, my panic wasn't that we actually owed one bajillion dollars (we don't), it was that I needed to hide it before Jeffrey got home. Or maybe more adult-like, call customer service and get it squared away. Before. The. Freakout.

It isn't enough to Big Lebowski him with a hearty Walter "Nothing is fucked here," but I knew that if I didn't call immediately, he'd spend the rest of the evening worrying that not only did we owe the money, but that checking the bank balance would show the money had been deducted. (Of course not evidence of payment, but that they had our money and they didn't know it and we couldn't prove it thus pitching us into some kind of e-billing black hole of despair.)

Where does this anxiety stem from! Paperless billing? Something even my mom got a handle on several years ago? Still freaks the shit out of him.

Point out that this is as unscientific as his father's fear of ATMs taking his card and never giving it back (and thus he will not use the ever-so-reliable-been-used-for-years-so-calm-the-hell-down machines or his defiance in using seat belts and allowing the warning bing to slowly drive everyone in the car to the brink of insanity).

Going electronic was supposed to alleviate the worry of having to remember to pay stuff. It was supposed to save us a stamp and reduce the anxiety of the monthly bill pay. Instead, it's just one more thing that can potentially go wrong and take us one step closer to our corrugated cardboard home.

Monday, October 19, 2009

At home with the me

*waves*

Hi there! I suck. I know. I haven't been blogging and I never got the photos up from my trip and I've caught a lot of shit for it and, well, maybe now that I'm not blogging daily for my job I'll have a little free mental space for this blog.

Lord knows I write enough every day on Twitter and Facebook to fill the space up.

So, I'm sorry, I'll try to be better.

And here is some dialogue from Gross Pointe Blank to fill your void of joy:

Marty: Oatman? Don't hang up. Listen, I didn't kill anyone - except some guy tried to kill me, so if I see that guy again, I'm definitely gonna kill him, but I'm not going to kill anybody else. I'm on my way to the reunion now with Debi, but I'm just a little nervous, and I'd like to do a phoner.
Dr. Oatman: O.K., repeat after me. "I am at home with the me. I am rooted in the me who is on this adventure."
Marty: I am at home with the me, I am rooted in the me who is on this adventure.
Dr. Oatman: Good. Now take a deep breath, and realize that this is me breathing.
Marty: Wait, I'm confused. Do you want me to say it or do you want me to realize it?
Dr. Oatman: What?
Marty: About the breathing.
Dr. Oatman: Say it.
Marty: This is me breathing.
Dr. Oatman: Good, now keep doing that for about twenty minutes.
Marty: Listen, I got to go.
Dr. Oatman: O.K. Keep it up. Don't kill anybody.
Marty: Right!
[Hangs up]
And a video clip from "In the Loop" that is horrendously vulgar and is possibly my new favorite bunch of sound bites. This is NSFS (Not Safe for Shirley).