Days Of My Life

My life is a damn soap opera some days. It is a good thing I have such a sunny disposition to carry me though. I got a call from a former coworker today. She actually called yesterday and left me a message, but I don't ever think to check for messages. She is moving into my old cubicle and can't figure out how to unlock a couple of filing cabinets. They were locked when I got them and I just used them as tables, so I wasn't any help. Son Sneed has decided that he is going to relinquish his drivers license for awhile. The fallout from the whole disaster with his license is that the state of Arizona wants a letter from his psychiatrist saying that he is fit to drive. He has decided that he just can't deal with the whole business right now and rather than having the license suspended, he is going to voluntarily surrender it. One of the problems for the chronically mentally ill is that there are not enough resources available to provide the optimum treatment for them. When a patient is in a community-based program, he often doesn't get to see a psychiatrist. Instead he is likely to see a social worker or nurse practitioner. In Son Sneed's case he sees a nurse practitioner, who works with a medical doctor to manage his medicines. Getting a doctor to vouch for his fitness to drive is difficult. No doctor wants that sort of liability. Add insurance companies to my list of creepy enterprises. Son Sneed got a letter from his car insurance company yesterday, which I opened in case it was urgent or something. It was a notice that he had not made the second of two payments for the period of May 1 through October 31. First thing this morning I called his company to explain that he was in the hospital and to ask if I could make the payment over the phone for him. The helpful representative told me that she could not talk to me because of privacy policies. It's fricking car insurance, not bank records. Everyone is worried about the privacy. I asked to talk to her supervisor and the helpful representative smugly told me that the supervisor would tell me the same thing, so it would be a waste of time to speak to her. I finally demanded to talk to the supervisor, who actually was very helpful. It seems that despite the fact that the letter said payment must be made IMMEDIATELY, it is really not due until August 23rd. Her advice was not to sweat it. My advice is don't send out these annoying letters if you don't mean it. I also got a very interesting phone call this morning concerning the former girlfriend of Cletus Sneed. This woman is also the mother of the Sneed granddaughters and an all around bum. Caller left a message say that he needed to speak with her and asked for a call back. Thinking it was a bill collector, I called him back to ask that he not call me any more about Ms. Deadbeat. I don't want to know about or be involved in the drama of her life or Cletus's life, for that matter. As my brother once said, "I don't need any more people thinking I'm white trash." Amen. To my surprise, the caller was not a bill collector; He was a private investigator. It seems that the girl has gone missing with the kids in tow and someone, I suspect her folks, has hired a PI to find her. Mrs. Sneed always cautioned against becoming attached to the little girls for this very reason. She was right, of course. I feel so sad for these children. Things in this blog represented to be fact, may or may not actually be true. The writer is frequently wrong, sometimes just full of it, but always judgmental and cranky Tag: Daily Life Personal Finance Humor