"Why is it," I ask, "that you people answer the phone if I want to enroll, but NOT if I am already enrolled? Put me through to the top!"
So they transfer me to an agent, which takes 40 minutes. I have simply stopped calling at all. I'll call them in a few years. I have no idea what they are doing to me. They are making me sick.
Meanwhile, the mail keeps stacking up. Things on the desk and things on the floor and things in the drawers are unopened since 2010 or 2006. If I notice it, I just throw it out.
Do we have a shredder?
Of course not.
Anyone who wants to climb through the Dumpster and sift through the garbage -- poopy diapers included -- can have whatever they find.
There might even be checks in there. I don't know. The real mail gets tangled up in the junk mail, so who knows?
The mail method has become this: Ram it up to the razor's edge and pay it or do it when I absolutely have to, as long as it doesn't impact the credit report.
Since reading all the fine print saves you in legal bills and I can no longer see 6-point type in the moonlight, I had to get coke-bottle glasses.
My ophthalmologist, Dr. Krasnow in Huntington, advises a paperwork strike: play hardball and demand that my husband hire a secretary.
But I am not ABOUT to let some woman take care of my husband's personal and business concerns unless she is ugly and stupid, and preferably grossly obese. I watch the ID Channel. I know what can happen.
So how do you run that classified ad without getting sued? How many responses do you think I will get?
Does anyone have any ideas?
I'm just going to stack it up and ignore it, and do something I WANT to do until I get INTERRUPTED. That's the plan for now.
Contact Tracy Herz at tracyh...@gmail.com.