I just heard that someone I loved died.
She was 88 and lived a long wonderful life, but I am still bereaved.
I wish she could have been with us even longer, healthy and happy.
I cried because I got a letter from another elderly friend, the one
who sent the clipping about Ruth's death. A nice letter.
I cried becase it is raining--HARD. And raining. And raining. And
wet and grey.
And I cried becase oif the impossible tasks--I seem to have a number of them.
One is the address change business for my numerous small stocks. Each
held somewhere where it is impossible to get someone on the phone or
get their website to work. They are threatening to take my stoocks
away becase of "abandonment!" And they won't leet me change my
address--it's been what 3-4 years and I've been trying and trying.
Calling and talking to customer service people who say they can't take
address changes on the phone as they have no way to verify I'm truly
who I say I am.
None of these stocks are wrth much, but they are mine. It's the
principle of the thing!
I was literally stewing about it when the mail came and ONE of the
stock companies, BNY Mellon, finally changed my address and sent me a
check for $23 from all the dividends I haven't received due to the
address change hassles. I know, not a lot of money, but hey! I'm
unemployed and every little bit helps!
I cried--in relief. I know, I know, I was crying earlier in
frustration becase it's literally been years.
And no, I am NOT having my period--I'm 62 years old and don't have
periods any more.
The stock thing is not over, there is more to go. The multiple others.
And then there is the house inspection thing. We need to get this
house in spected, the Rolandale House. But I called and called and
called and called and let the phone ring five minutes, ten minutes,
etc--no answer. Over and over. I was just settling down for another
long wait when someone picked up the phone and kindly andswered my
questions. When I hung up, I cried and dcried. It's not over yet.
It's only one of a long series of hurdles.
Why do things seem to be getting harder and harder?
I guess, in part, because I don't sleep at night. I'm tired and it
makes everythings seem harder and more stressful.
But bureacracies do seem to be much worse--it's so much harder to get
to talk to a real person. And the recordings and choices and menus
NEVER solve my problems! WHY?
And do I get a piece of chocolate or a glass of wine to soothe my
shattered nerves? NO! I can't.
But hey, I wrote two new poems last night and this morning. :-) :-D