Have you been offered a enny
for your thoughts lately?
What’s with that!
With the economy, inflation and cost of living
my thoughts are worth more than a enny.
Then if you factor in my age and life experience
the value of my thoughts goes up considerably.
People should offer at least one hundred
ennies for my thoughts.
I’d say more than a dollar but I am a
thoughtful thought-filled person, not a greedy one.
Last week I had a birthday. It was very nice, thank you. On special days like birthdays I tend to think about the past. I think about things I have done and people I have known, stuff like that. Well, on this birthday, and probably most birthdays, I was thinking about my Ma.
She didn’t like being called Ma, at least not in the beginning. I was the only one who called her that and I did it because it drove her crazy. The name did grow on her after a while and when I stopped calling her Ma she wanted to know if I was mad at her. Go figure. So for ever after I called her Ma just so she would know I wasn’t mad.
This post isn’t about that. It’s about a tradition of hers. She had lots of little quirky things she said and did. This one was kind of cute and it relates to birthdays. See there was a reason for the first paragraph.
Anyway, when a baby is celebrating birthday #1 three things are put on the table in front of the baby, a bible, some money, and a bottle of beer. The first thing that the baby grabs for is said to tell who the baby will grow up to be. If the bible is chosen the child will grow up to be kind and loving and good. Those that choose the money will be successful and…rich. The baby that goes for the bottle of beer will be a fun person and a live and let live sort.
I have been told one of my brothers went for the beer and the other for the money. Me? I just put my chubby little arms out and scooped them all up!
This is a sort of fly by post because I am in a hurry but I just gotta vent/rant about my frustration. So feel free to skip this if you want a holly jolly Christmas themed happy read.
It seems that a debit made to my checking account should not have been. First grrrr. It was after 8pm when I checked my account and found this error so no one answered any phones for this particular problem–business hours only you know. Second grrrr–I mean banks can debit 25/7 but won’t talk to you except 8-5 Mon-Fri.
So, techie that I am not went to chat via computer–was going fine but then lost connection. Third grrrr. Ok, get back to chat–which took awhile because all agents were assisting others–but after a time of impatience I connected with Nicholas–who happy to help you–so sorry for the problems–blah blah blah. Turns out nice Nicholas could not help but gave me a phone number to call after 6am today. Fourth grrrr.
Called the number at 9am–no way I was getting up at 6am! Spoke with very friendly sympathetic Billy and given the info about how to get the debit reversed which will take about 10 days depending on the merchant’s response–Fifth grrrr. She quickly–2 hours later–e-mailed me the form–which I could not open. Sixth grrrr. Called the claim team number again and spoke with rather abrupt but efficient Barbara who will fax the document that I will not get until Tuesday because I don’t have a fax at home so it is being faxed to work–I will be at work Tuesday–not before. Seventh grrrr.
So, the paperwork will not be put to work, so to speak, until Tuesday or Wednesday–there is a 24 hour delay once they get the fax dontcha know. Eighth grrrr. It seems my money is in limbo or purgatory or somewhere in cyber space. Wherever it is–it is not available to me. Ninth grrrr.
The tenth, and hopefully last grrrr, this has caused me to misplace my gentle and quiet spirit and now I must try to find it before I slap somebody up side the head!