Steam is coming out of my ears. I have just come off the phone after speaking to yet another worker at Tesco Bank. All I want is a credit card. I don't really want it but I do need it. Having been out of the country for the length of time I have, there is no data on me. No data means I am a credit risk.
Within a week of arriving I sussed the situation out and applied for a Tesco card as that seemed to be the most recognisable option. The letter arrived and asked for proof of me living at my address. These days banks don't send out statements so I can't send a statement to prove I live here.
The broadband service also comes via email and does not include my address. That is another option thwarted. Lucky, thought me, I will send the Council Tax bill that does have my name on and it is on the list of options so I sent it off. Surprise, surprise - the council tax bill only says I am an A Woolhead and does not have my full name so that has been rejected. I have attempted to offer three bits of evidence and none of them are good enough.
It is hard to stay calm when faced with such idiocy. What are the chances of having two A Woolheads in the same house who are not related. What are the chances of two Woolheads in the same town? If I were a Jones that might be a different matter .This bureaucracy irks...Errrrrgh...
I might have felt a bit more mild mannered if there weren't other equally idiotic things filling my waking moments. I am still awaiting BC to tell me what support they are offering me after my fall at work in October! Frequently a minion we shall call J emails me and asks the same / similar questions about the treatment I will receive in Singapore. I don't live in Singapore. I have emailed him and said that I feel fortunate that my problems are not terminal. My life is not running out but my patience is. I cannot believe how many man hours have been eaten up not getting anywhere at all. OMG. How much time can one office worker waste? Please someone research this - it will be an eye opener. Meanwhile I am paying for my own physio!
As you know, Marmite, my new kitchen is being fitted and that is not going smoothly either. Despite planning it at B&Q and foolishly believing if the stuff is on the drawings, then it will be in the packaging, I have been let down big time. I tried phoning the store I bought the stuff from.. no answer. I called the national number which helpfully told me repreatedly to check out their website. When I did speak to a Scottish human being he tried to put me through to B&Q MK and left me on the phone but not connected for 15 mnutes before I gave up. Now I need to go down to said store and deal with this and other minor hiccups F2F tomorrow.
One last moan. The double glazing people promised to take away the scaffolding 3-5 days after the windows were put in. I spent twenty minutes on hold awaiting to tell them it is still up two weeks later and my plumbers will happily take charge of it.
All this hanging on the line for poorly manned call centres is ridiculous. Once you do get through, the people working in them have no power or (I suspect) any inclination to do anything in the least bit supportive for the caller. I am sure there are frequent ads asking for workers in this line - essential skills - must be a proven dickhead.
On the up side. There was snow this morning and my young childish heart got very excited. Yay, the beauty of nature. I rushed out of doors to cover my newly planted rhubarb and fixed the bird feeder on the fence at the end of the garden. The joy was not to last, by lunch time it had all melted and now the temperature is in double figures.
At least I had heating last night. Too much in fact. Today is the DAY.. my heating will finally be sorted and I can change the temperature just through using my phone. Bliss me thinks!
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| Visible carpet- proof my kitchen bits are being moved to the right place |
With the heating just right, I imagine you quite settled in my little place. The carpets are fitted so you won't be able to snuggle under a rug here, though.
Missing you Marms
Love
XXX
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