On this my husband and I agree: It's been a really crappy week so far.
Last night I tweeted that I never realize while in the moment when other parties force me onto the defensive in order to deflect the heat off themselves. I can't go into more detail other than to share that I spent most of yesterday on the defensive, and by the end of the interaction, all I'd managed to do was move the ball back to the middle of the field. It's impossible at this point for me to try and move the ball forward on an important matter that now will never be resolved to my satisfaction.
That particular issue is but one of several biggies, which join some little annoyances attended to this week. Another is that way back in June our pool was supposed to have been re-tiled and re-plastered. After days and days and days of miscommunication between the service and construction departments, the work was done. But the day after the pool refilled, somebody from the company started to empty it out again, without contacting either my husband or myself.
Eventually the company contacted us; they'd been dissatisfied by the plaster job and planned to re-do it asap. While I applauded their high standards, when another week went by without seeing a crew in our yard, I got tough on the phone. They'd already agreed to pay our water bill for one of the two fills now required, so I focused instead on the fact that we'd lost an entire month of summer as a result of their shoddy work and inattention.
Two days hence, they re-did the work and filled the pool. I turned off the water Friday afternoon and wondered when they'd return to collect their hoses and re-attach "Otto," our pool sweep. By yesterday afternoon I'd had enough and, after calling yet again, sent an email to the highest level person in the company we'd dealt with, and he responded today with a call to my husband, promising they'd be here today and tomorrow to finish things. In this, you see, I agreed to be the bad cop to his good cop, so I wasn't surprised when my husband got the phone call instead of me.
The other major issue revolves around the money set aside for our daughter's college tuition, room, and board. Months ago we'd made the decision to transfer management of the trust from a local firm (Company A) to one in Los Angeles (Company B) that has worked with my family for years. By the time all the paperwork was filled out and authorizations written, it was mid-June. It wasn't until Friday that I learned a third of the total amount - in cash and fund/assets - had not been transferred for some unknown reason.
So, late Friday afternoon, after Company A's office had closed, I left a lengthy message asking for an accounting and explanation, and though I'm the trustee for the college fund, I'm just a woman, which is why I believe they decided to email my husband in return rather than contacting me. According to their records, the remainder of funds had been transferred June 29th, which was news indeed to Company B.
It's now Wednesday afternoon. So far I've learned that the firm handling the transfer for the Company A are part of the same larger "back-room" firm that handle transfers for Company B...yet from this end I am assured every last thing was transferred while at the other end I am told a third remains missing. I asked Company A to determine the account number used at the receiving end, and have yet to hear back, leading to my emailing them earlier this afternoon to indicate my concern that without the necessary information, the idea that somebody along the line is covering a mistake is now entrenched in my head. Meanwhile, I requested the matter be escalated to Company B.
My new plan is to be as annoying as possible - and I can be extremely annoying - to all parties tomorrow to make sure this is finally resolved.
Now onto the little stuff. I've spent the past week or so trying to get ready for our vacation, which begins next week. While I was at a local mall this morning returning some things, I decided to use the convenience computerized kiosk to buy a skin care item I usually buy via the Internet. The product came out of the machine, but a receipt did not.
It took fifty minutes, one disconnected number, two customer service reps who didn't speak the good English, and three other phone calls to finally speak to somebody authorized to send me a receipt. Needless to say, after that experience, I'm looking more and more forward to tomorrow night when a bunch of us are getting together at a local bistro to celebrate the birthdays of Beth and LeaAnne. While I only developed a taste for beer last year and rarely drink, my mouth is practically watering at the thought of sucking down a couple of Stellas.