(no subject)

Today is yesterday, except that the messages I was going to do yesterday appear to have grown signficantly in number. Just as well no-one wanted to meet for coffee, because I no longer have time! I have a long list of things to be crossed off and completed.

My missing objects are no longer missing. I spent two hours yesterday tidying and sorting in order to locate them. They were where I had left them, weeks and weeks ago. I still don't know why I couldn't see them, there, on the shelf, right in front of me, at eye level.

Anyhow, the direct result of the detour is that I now have a bag ready to go to Vinnie's and floor is actually visible in my library and I have located four pens and some postcards containing my sister's recipe for potato latkes (the one without onion). I don't know what to do with the latter. They may just go into the recycling, given they're old and I have already put a couple aside for memory's sake. Or I can use them in class tomorrow, as a prompt.

I know this is a week for small matters to be got out of the way, just as the week before last was the one when I caught up with a whack of work, but I miss sitting down and hammering through substantive stuff. I really do. Everything feels rather inconclusive, even when it isn't. I've signed a contract to teach punctuation and etc in Sydney in late August, for instance, and I'm over 2/3 of the way through my reading for the masterclass. Neither of these things is inconclusive or even insubstantial, but they feel ephemeral.

Tomorrow is all about teaching. This means that from Thursday I can start back in on substantive stuff. That's the aim. And, if I'm very, very good and get through all my messages, I'm allowed to sort some of the notes for Thursday tonight.

(no subject)

I did 2/3 of my messages. Only some of them lacked frustrations. Let me give you just the highlights.

First highlight was the guy in David Jones who kept not listening. He was consistent in his lack of listening. I have bought yet more chocolate to take overseas, because my gift voucher* couldn't be spent on chocolate for me because I kept saying to him "I don't have a sweet tooth" and he kept pointing me at milk choc with soft centres - all I can say is that I hope my UK friends like bilbies and and frogs and choc ginger - if you do, feel free to drop hints when you see me. I have them. They can be yours if you drop the right hints at the right time.

The chemist had forgotten its own lines. This chemist only ever remembers stuff when one can point to it on the shelf and I saw the bit of the shelf in question and there indeed was none of my pain reliever. The young woman (everyone was young today - more mature souls saw me and found somewhere safe to huddle?) found me a cheap alternative in any case, so that wasn't so bad. In fact, it was good, because the cheaper alternative has more codeine. This means that my still high pain levels will be down very shortly. (The pain levels aren't as high as yesterday, either, so things are good, despite me obviously being the customer from hell just by existing.)

The most annoying segment of all was the bank. I had two bright young things advising me and they were both trying to sell me a product. I said three times that I had checked out that product online and that the reviews of it hadn't convinced me. At one stage I was forced to give statistics - 50% of clients on a particular travel site hated it, I explained, which is why I don't really want it. And it's linked to the same system as my current credit card, I also pointed out, which means that if one's down, I won't have access to the other - and I was asking about an alternative.

I nearly said that the leaflet the young man kept thrusting into my hands was, nevertheless, very pretty, but I refrained.

"But I've never had a problem" the young woman cooed (yes, her tones were dovelike and lo, even dulcet).

"It says it's for travel," the young man helpfully hinted and proceeded to inform me that if I use my credit card at home (including online) it costs me the amounts I knew, but that if I use it overseas (likewise including online) there's a three per cent surcharge for each and every transaction. My response to that was to suggest that this meant I probably needed a different credit card and maybe I should try St George.

He found another possible way for me to get at my money overseas at this point (my bank has a London branch with no surcharge for withdrawal from my normal bank account, I finally found out) and I washed my hands of the whole help desk.

I'm going to ring up and see if the central bods are better informed about their own products. Or care more about service and less about selling a particular line. At least they can't thrust leaflets into my hand. Although I guess they could still ignore the real questions. If there really is a 3% surcharge on every single transaction on my credit card once I leave Australia, I definitely need to change banks. At this stage, however, I'm not convinced the young man actually knew what time of day it was - he was eyeing off the dulcet-toned one rather than paying attention to me. I don't know if this was because she was pretty or because she was his supervisor.

My remaining forays into various things can wait until later in the week, when I have more fortitude. I do hope my UK friends each chocolate. If not, then I shall thrust large quantities on ADM at Leeds, and on Ian at Leeds. That will redeem this afternoon, at least.





*Not a birthday present. It was probably proper that I spend it on friends. Proper, but frustrating. What I really wanted were the Russian Paddington chocolates, but I couldn't find them and the young man serving me was so certain I needed milk chocolate...


ETA: The phone banking person was lovely and has solved all my problems. I know exactly what charges go with what uses and have a reverse charge phone number should things go wrong. Basically, Camille and Barbara, I'm doing what you suggested, but with the added security of that reverse charge phone number for issues.