Frustrations

Aarrgh!  It seems I'm the only one benefiting from our morning walks, the walks meant to train Michael not to go down the driveway on his own.  It worked for a day or two after many repetitions of our strolls together, but lately, in the evening when we go out to sit on the porch, he gets sneaky.  He acts like he's leaving the step to go piddle on the juniper, and then turns left and heads toward the drive.  "Michael, no!  Leave it!  Come back here!"  Michael says, "Lalalala, I can't hear you," and keeps on going.  The only good thing is that I can tell from the time he's gone that he is not going up the road across the street, and he does come back.  Some dog trainer I am.

Going through a stack of neglected paperwork, I discovered that a significant error had been made in the diagnosis on a medical insurance claim.  There is a vast difference between upper and outer, and left and right.  It could be something as simple as a transposition of code numbers, but it needed to be corrected.  The insurance company said only the doctor could change it, but which doctor?  Oh good grief!  It took three calls to three offices and a couple of call-backs to find the "culprit," and of course he was out of the office for the week.  Fingers crossed on that one.

"Insurance" was the word of the day.  When I had my eyes examined (should have been my head), they insisted on using my Medicare card instead of my active insurance card.  Medicare denied the claim.  I called the other company.  Yes, eye exams were covered, and I found out a host of other situations were also covered.  Okay, another call to the optometrist's office.  "We aren't authorized to bill that company, only Medicare.  You still owe."  I was able to resist spewing a string of bad words until I hung up.

One of the worst pickles was when I opened the mail and discovered my home insurance was being cancelled because of "high fire danger."  Aarrgh!  I've undoubtedly paid enough in premiums over the years to build another house, with some left over for furniture.  That required a call to my broker.  "We're working on it."

In the evening, I attempted to watch an episode or two of some recorded programs that had mysteriously gone to something called "On Demand," whatever that is.  I'd get a second or so of program, and then it would switch to "Downloading" for over a minute,  over and over.  I understood the urge to shoot the television.  Back on the phone for the umpteenth time yesterday, the nice young man in Dallas was able to find that the problem was with the WiFi modem and, in time, fix it.

It was hot, and it had been a most frustrating day.  The only productive thing done was taking the trash down to the road.

Michael gave up and put himself to bed.