@SusanDoris, that sounds like an extremely appropriate form of Hell for all politicians, especially if the forms can be made to have minor errors which make them very difficult to complete correctly.
It's all very well and good removing the plastic lids from the large yogurt pots, cream, etc. etc. and I applaud this move from a minimising plastic point of view.
But, could the companies not work on the strength of whatever the peel-off lid is to help avoid messy mishaps in the shopping trolley, or worse, in my rucksack on the way home??
Absolutely agree, Japes. I haven't (so far) had any in-transit explosions, but I rather miss being able to properly close the pots that don't have plastic lids once they've been opened. It's not as if I'm going to be using an entire half-litre pot of Greek yoghurt at one sitting.
I don't know whether I want to scream, to bang my head against some kind of a solid wall (doesn't have to be brick!) or just go "F**k it - if you don't like all the work I've done to pull this together, you should have tried getting involved from the beginning and finding out how it was going, rather than leaving it until now (the point where you actually HAVE to get involved) and finding all sorts of issues & inadequacies. Suck it up & deal".
Well, I'm now on leave for 10 days, and about to bugger off on retreat, so the person in question really is just going to have to suck it up & deal. Fortunately, my immediate manager and the Head of Department (also said individual's manager) are supportive of me having in fact done a damn good job. And Suck it up & Deal (though possibly not in those words)
Today I CTH a relative's GP's appointment system. Relative has been slightly under the weather for some time. She's had anti-biotics, then different anti-biotics, with no improvement and so the doctor took samples to do broader screening tests. This afternoon she got a phone call and was told that her results are back and the doctor wants to see her face-to-face on Thursday.
Except - she didn't get an appointment for Thursday! She has to phone on Thursday morning to ask for a same-day appointment at the same time as dozens of other people are also phoning for a same-day appointment. Presumably when she finally gets through (it can take repeated attempts) she is guaranteed an appointment because the doctor has asked to see her, but if there is an appointment reserved for her, why not just give it to her now? And if there isn't an appointment reserved for her, does that mean there's a chance she won't be able to see a doctor on Thursday, despite having been told the doctor wants to see her?
Bloody wasps. Still. These are the last-act-of-the-opera ones who stagger across the carpet probably singing I die! I die! Oh cruel fate! I die! Though not as bad as the ones who crawl into my knitting to tumble into my lap, or cling to the iPad.
E-on Next, to which I was transferred by npower. Nothing wrong with that as it gets my use and my generation under the same roof. I agreed to have a smart meter. They now keep sending me texts requiring me to contact them to fix a date and time for this. On my aged Nokia which does not have the facility to connect to the address conveniently part of the text. So I carefully transcribed it to my computer, which did not recognise it.
On to the web site, on which I finally found a phone number which is now playing me music because they have an unexpectedly large number of calls. None of their FAQs address this problem. Only stuff arising after the thing is fitted. I had to find the complaints department, which nicely includes the CEO email. All I want is to be able to get to the arrange a visit place.
Nothing to tell me where I am in the queue.
The text makes it clear that if I do not respond, they will put me on a higher tariff!!!
And now the DPD delivery man for whom I have been waiting. Due between 10.56 and 11.56. Not one of my doorbells rang (unless he did the one only audible in my bedroom).*
But, on the good side, he did put the box in my bin cupboard as per notices on doors, and ACTUALLY lock it!
*Notice to self. Find other wifi receiver and set it up downstairs.
Also good phone call with E-on northern lady. All on hold until I have had the plumber in to restart the gas heater and find out where the flue is for the meter changer to access it. No more useless texts.
You can set up an EON account and do everything on computer, with e-mail reminders and somewhere in the account to check all the messages. Meter readings straight to computer, including booking smart meter installations, although that was a different part of the site. Mine was fitted yesterday, as part of the fixed tariff I'm on.
I did get some reminder texts, and a call from the nice lad fitting it in the morning to say when he was actually arriving within the 4 hour booking slot, but nothing too horrendous.
(I was transferred from my original supplier as part of a takeover too.)
Our electricity here is supplied via the Marina management, and the Owner (may peace be upon him) recently wrote to all of us denizens of Arkland that the electricity supply contract had expired.
He is in the process of negotiating a new contract, which comes at just the wrong time, given the Difficulties Of The Day. He warns us to expect a large increase in electricity prices, but can't be more specific yet until a contract with a new supplier is arranged.
Personally, I suspect that we are in for at least a 50% increase (supplies to the individual Arks are metered), and although I can afford this, there are many who probably won't be able to. We shall see - I may be expressing rather more pessimism than is warranted.
TICTH, therefore, the Useless Gobshites who seem to be happy to f**k everything up to serve their personal political ends. I know this is All Saints, but may their end come soon.
TICTH a certain central government organisation who seem to be unable or unwilling to understand basic manners.
I can see no reason to be outstandingly rude on a regular basis? Just why?
Any particular central government organisation? I thought they were all like that (though, to be fair, I've not had any problems with the DVLA's medical group regarding my driving licence...)
Oh I expect that charge could be labelled at most of them, there is a reason why bus shelters get broken.
If folk get told they haven’t sent something when they have.
Informed they have committed fraud when they haven’t.
Or are spoken to like a violent criminal when they are no such thing.
Some people, can’t handle that sort of treatment. Then the poor bus shelter gets it.
So in addition I will also CTH all gov depts currently working from home who have the Nerve to say “ can’t hear you, can’t hear you, no bye” whilst also saying “ I ll just get rid of this one” While We Can Hear You……
I'm about to take on a huge insurance co with a big quacky thing for a mascot. The creatures sold me an insurance policy a couple months before my husband had a stroke in 2018, and have been attempting to weasel out of payment ever sense. We've had FIVE go-rounds, including an ombudsmen, and they have had the temerity to tell the sixth will be the last. New cooked up reasons every time, often duplicating what they said three rounds before, and directly contradicting their own instructions, and THEN blaming the hospital. Pray, what exactly IS an operative report on a man who had no operation????
Once more into the breach, dear friends. We who are about to die, salute thee.
TICTH...someone.
The VA (blessings upon them) sent one of Dad's hearing aids to the Denver facility to be repaired in August. Knowing that things are slow and different (and that this is a government agency) we didn't start asking about the hearing aid until a month had gone by. Finally, our local VA office gave me the phone number of the Denver folks, and I've called several times with the option of leaving my number and they would call me back. Today, they actually called me back!
Apparently, according to their records, the hearing aid was delivered to the assisted living where my folks live (I asked for the delivery address to make sure) on September 8, and was received at the front desk by D. There is no D there. L and Q run the front desk. Q took a lot of her time today to trace down in the records who was on the front desk on that day. As expected, it was L. She is wonderful as is Q.
I suspect someone went to the wrong address with Dad's hearing aid, and whoever got it didn't bother to forward it to the correct address. There's also the possibility that the package was misaddressed. Anyhow, someone needs to be CTH. I've left another call back message. We'll see how long it takes to get a response this time.
I do have an online account with E-on, but it didn't link to the smart meter installation page. As it turned out that we can't arrange anything until I know how to give access to the flue - up through a closed channel to the flat roof three floors up - not easy, the phone call was the best option.
@Lamb Chopped, best prayers and wishes. I am sure insurance companies bank on people just giving up because it gets overwhelming. I feel for those who are ill and have to deal with this on their own. Good for you for fighting on.
I've spent two full days now untangling three years' worth of fighting--and though a lot of fault still lies with them, I begin to think we ourselves should have been wiser. I suspect the breakdown lies in the fact that we trusted them (I know--sad) and that they, well, really didn't give a damn, and wanted ironclad proof that the stroke existed and had ongoing effects--and wouldn't accept anything less than a doctor's outright statement (no medical codes, no therapy prescriptions for stroke, no whatsit--it had to read "This.Was.A.Stroke."
And I suspect (and will never be able to confirm) moreover that the medical complex which handled Mr Lamb's care refuses to release information to anybody who doesn't use their specially constructed release-of-information form--of which there are actually two separate ones, if not three, that need filling out--and The Quacky Ones figured, "Hey, our generic release form is good enough, fuck that," and had us sign their form without raising questions or doubts about its efficacy, and sent it in, and then sat on their butts in silence when the hospital etc. refused to accept it. And never informed us, either.
So now I'm redoing all the footwork that should have been theirs (because we DID authorize them, and they said they would do it) and it will doubtless take weeks or months, especially now that it's three years on. I can only chalk it up to my own shock and horror at the stroke itself--normally I would have cottoned on to this kind of situation years sooner, if it had only been one of my Vietnamese people. But it wasn't--it was us, and my head was in no shape to see what was probably going on. Bah.
Tomorrow: Three phone calls to make to the various bits of the medical complex to make sure I am using the correct form and addressing the proper authorities in each case; which will be loads of fun, because I usually get condescended to in these situations. And then the sending of the letters, the tracking of the letters (because I'm not trusting anybody this time), and the long wait to get something back. Because I dare not go back for this final attempt (The Quackers have refused to entertain anymore attempts, justice and their own fuckups notwithstanding) without every last puzzle piece in hand.
And if that check isn't forthcoming, at least I should have my legal case pretty well pulled together. Two days of research and analysis! ugh.
Yes. Don't you wish you had summary magical power, so you could just point at people and say: "You--you there--right now, into bed!" and they would magically be forced to have a nap?
Yes. Don't you wish you had summary magical power, so you could just point at people and say: "You--you there--right now, into bed!" and they would magically be forced to have a nap?
Seriously, these past four years in the U.S. I keep dreaming of running for National Mother-in-Chief, just so I can send various people off for naps (and maybe spank a few others, I'm not a spanker but Trump tries me).
Grrrrrr hisssssss. This is SUCH a month--eye surgery Monday, after which I will not be allowed to lift anything much until Christmas. So we've got to get the big plants in before the frost comes. BUT this is being interfered with by people God has dropped in our laps (Yeah, I'm bitching. Of course I'm bitching. Did you think I was going to take it gracefully?) one of whom is probably slowly dying of various things, but refuses any sort of medical treatment, and can't be sent home from the hospital as she is dangerously unstable; and t'other is elderly, heatless, car-less, phoneless, and possibly being scammed (odd withdrawals from her bank account) and must be driven to bank AND phone place tomorrow, before I can't drive anymore, to deal with all this crap.
Tomorrow Mr. Lamb gets person #1, whom he's been dealing with all week. I get person #2, AFTER my freaking COVID booster, when I'm going to have a sore arm and loads of crankiness to share with the universe at large. Grrrrrrr.
I am actually looking forward to the two eye surgeries. Because anybody who wants me to do much of anything is going to have to suck it up and find someone else to cope. Ha.
Well, I've given it a few days but it still rankles so
Today I CTH last weekend's bride who rolled up 28 minutes late and then took another 6 minutes for photographs before she was ready to sashay down the aisle. That meant your truly not only played for a full 43 minutes but then 'filled in' for another 5 and a bit before launching into the chosen music for her entrance.
The woman only had to travel c800 yards to get to church FFS. WHY? 👹
I took a wedding where the bride came from 1200 yards away and was that sort of late. No contact was possible by mobile. She was most apologetic when she arrived.
It turned out that as they had stepped out of the door her chief bridesmaid’s dress had split all down a side seam. The delay was the time it had taken to sew her back in again.
Our last vicar used to slash one hymn from the order of service for every 10 minutes the bride was late. Your latest 'lady' might not have got a service at all as our turnaround times for weddings were so short on a Saturday!
28 minutes late, FFS!
Oh, and in answer to your question, Because She Can! It's all about control...
I'm sure I recall the vicar at our rehearsal being explicit that the 'tradition' of the Bride being late is best honoured in the breach rather than the observation. Not sure that message always gets through.
The Vicar was late to Mum and Dad's wedding. Dad's brothers climbed through a vestry window to open the Church, while the bridal car ( Uncle's taxi) drove around the block a couple of times. The Wedding reception was a bit muted as there had just been an election where the Party neither family supported was voted in.
Our last vicar used to slash one hymn from the order of service for every 10 minutes the bride was late. Your latest 'lady' might not have got a service at all as our turnaround times for weddings were so short on a Saturday!
28 minutes late, FFS!
Oh, and in answer to your question, Because She Can! It's all about control...[/quote]
Because It's my day and i can do what I like... and never mind how it inconveniences anybody else.
@TheOrganist - I hope you treated them to "Why are we Waiting", getting louder and less subtle every five minutes.
It's what David would have done - by nearly half an hour, it would have been played on the pedal reeds!
You have to weave an impromptu chorale prelude on it. Introduce it in highly disguised form on a manual with a gentle 8'+2' diapason or flute, then gradually increase the registration and make the theme clearer until you're playing it on 32' Ophicleide with 16' Trumpet coupled to 8' reeds on the Great.
At a wedding at Our Place, the bride was 45 minutes late...
The visiting priest (we were in interregnum at the time) drily remarked that he now had no time in which to preach his usual 45-minute wedding sermon...
At a wedding at Our Place, the bride was 45 minutes late...
The visiting priest (we were in interregnum at the time) drily remarked that he now had no time in which to preach his usual 45-minute wedding sermon...
At a wedding at Our Place, the bride was 45 minutes late...
The visiting priest (we were in interregnum at the time) drily remarked that he now had no time in which to preach his usual 45-minute wedding sermon...
And the people all said Hallelujah!
Well, those of us who knew him did indeed breathe a sigh of relief. He was a lovely man, and an excellent priest in many ways, but O! his rambling er...umm...er...umm sermons...
If he'd even attempted to preach a sermon, we'd have all left precipitately (see my remarks, above).
Difficult in your part of the world, seeing that it lacks chasms, abysses, gorges or even common-or-garden cliffs. Although I suppose folk could have walked over the edge of a quay and into the river.
@TheOrganist - I hope you treated them to "Why are we Waiting", getting louder and less subtle every five minutes.
It's what David would have done - by nearly half an hour, it would have been played on the pedal reeds!
You have to weave an impromptu chorale prelude on it. Introduce it in highly disguised form on a manual with a gentle 8'+2' diapason or flute, then gradually increase the registration and make the theme clearer until you're playing it on 32' Ophicleide with 16' Trumpet coupled to 8' reeds on the Great.
Small but beautiful two manual tracker so not an option KLb. However, after 10 minutes I did go treat them to some incredibly dry Frescobaldi 😈
If he'd even attempted to preach a sermon, we'd have all left precipitately (see my remarks, above).
Difficult in your part of the world, seeing that it lacks chasms, abysses, gorges or even common-or-garden cliffs. Although I suppose folk could have walked over the edge of a quay and into the river.
Yes, that is what we could have done - the church is not far from the river...
@TheOrganist - I hope you treated them to "Why are we Waiting", getting louder and less subtle every five minutes.
It's what David would have done - by nearly half an hour, it would have been played on the pedal reeds!
You have to weave an impromptu chorale prelude on it. Introduce it in highly disguised form on a manual with a gentle 8'+2' diapason or flute, then gradually increase the registration and make the theme clearer until you're playing it on 32' Ophicleide with 16' Trumpet coupled to 8' reeds on the Great.
Comments
But, could the companies not work on the strength of whatever the peel-off lid is to help avoid messy mishaps in the shopping trolley, or worse, in my rucksack on the way home??
I just needed to vent...
Aaaaand breathe... and let it go....
Except - she didn't get an appointment for Thursday! She has to phone on Thursday morning to ask for a same-day appointment at the same time as dozens of other people are also phoning for a same-day appointment. Presumably when she finally gets through (it can take repeated attempts) she is guaranteed an appointment because the doctor has asked to see her, but if there is an appointment reserved for her, why not just give it to her now? And if there isn't an appointment reserved for her, does that mean there's a chance she won't be able to see a doctor on Thursday, despite having been told the doctor wants to see her?
On to the web site, on which I finally found a phone number which is now playing me music because they have an unexpectedly large number of calls. None of their FAQs address this problem. Only stuff arising after the thing is fitted. I had to find the complaints department, which nicely includes the CEO email. All I want is to be able to get to the arrange a visit place.
Nothing to tell me where I am in the queue.
The text makes it clear that if I do not respond, they will put me on a higher tariff!!!
And now the DPD delivery man for whom I have been waiting. Due between 10.56 and 11.56. Not one of my doorbells rang (unless he did the one only audible in my bedroom).*
But, on the good side, he did put the box in my bin cupboard as per notices on doors, and ACTUALLY lock it!
*Notice to self. Find other wifi receiver and set it up downstairs.
Also good phone call with E-on northern lady. All on hold until I have had the plumber in to restart the gas heater and find out where the flue is for the meter changer to access it. No more useless texts.
I did get some reminder texts, and a call from the nice lad fitting it in the morning to say when he was actually arriving within the 4 hour booking slot, but nothing too horrendous.
(I was transferred from my original supplier as part of a takeover too.)
He is in the process of negotiating a new contract, which comes at just the wrong time, given the Difficulties Of The Day. He warns us to expect a large increase in electricity prices, but can't be more specific yet until a contract with a new supplier is arranged.
Personally, I suspect that we are in for at least a 50% increase (supplies to the individual Arks are metered), and although I can afford this, there are many who probably won't be able to. We shall see - I may be expressing rather more pessimism than is warranted.
TICTH, therefore, the Useless Gobshites who seem to be happy to f**k everything up to serve their personal political ends. I know this is All Saints, but may their end come soon.
I can see no reason to be outstandingly rude on a regular basis? Just why?
If folk get told they haven’t sent something when they have.
Informed they have committed fraud when they haven’t.
Or are spoken to like a violent criminal when they are no such thing.
Some people, can’t handle that sort of treatment. Then the poor bus shelter gets it.
So in addition I will also CTH all gov depts currently working from home who have the Nerve to say “ can’t hear you, can’t hear you, no bye” whilst also saying “ I ll just get rid of this one” While We Can Hear You……
Once more into the breach, dear friends. We who are about to die, salute thee.
Duck, and re-cover. <votive>
The VA (blessings upon them) sent one of Dad's hearing aids to the Denver facility to be repaired in August. Knowing that things are slow and different (and that this is a government agency) we didn't start asking about the hearing aid until a month had gone by. Finally, our local VA office gave me the phone number of the Denver folks, and I've called several times with the option of leaving my number and they would call me back. Today, they actually called me back!
Apparently, according to their records, the hearing aid was delivered to the assisted living where my folks live (I asked for the delivery address to make sure) on September 8, and was received at the front desk by D. There is no D there. L and Q run the front desk. Q took a lot of her time today to trace down in the records who was on the front desk on that day. As expected, it was L. She is wonderful as is Q.
I suspect someone went to the wrong address with Dad's hearing aid, and whoever got it didn't bother to forward it to the correct address. There's also the possibility that the package was misaddressed. Anyhow, someone needs to be CTH. I've left another call back message. We'll see how long it takes to get a response this time.
And I suspect (and will never be able to confirm) moreover that the medical complex which handled Mr Lamb's care refuses to release information to anybody who doesn't use their specially constructed release-of-information form--of which there are actually two separate ones, if not three, that need filling out--and The Quacky Ones figured, "Hey, our generic release form is good enough, fuck that," and had us sign their form without raising questions or doubts about its efficacy, and sent it in, and then sat on their butts in silence when the hospital etc. refused to accept it. And never informed us, either.
So now I'm redoing all the footwork that should have been theirs (because we DID authorize them, and they said they would do it) and it will doubtless take weeks or months, especially now that it's three years on. I can only chalk it up to my own shock and horror at the stroke itself--normally I would have cottoned on to this kind of situation years sooner, if it had only been one of my Vietnamese people. But it wasn't--it was us, and my head was in no shape to see what was probably going on. Bah.
Tomorrow: Three phone calls to make to the various bits of the medical complex to make sure I am using the correct form and addressing the proper authorities in each case; which will be loads of fun, because I usually get condescended to in these situations. And then the sending of the letters, the tracking of the letters (because I'm not trusting anybody this time), and the long wait to get something back. Because I dare not go back for this final attempt (The Quackers have refused to entertain anymore attempts, justice and their own fuckups notwithstanding) without every last puzzle piece in hand.
And if that check isn't forthcoming, at least I should have my legal case pretty well pulled together. Two days of research and analysis! ugh.
Oh, I'd make so much use of that...
Tomorrow Mr. Lamb gets person #1, whom he's been dealing with all week. I get person #2, AFTER my freaking COVID booster, when I'm going to have a sore arm and loads of crankiness to share with the universe at large. Grrrrrrr.
I am actually looking forward to the two eye surgeries. Because anybody who wants me to do much of anything is going to have to suck it up and find someone else to cope. Ha.
Must.buy.loads.of.chocolate.
Today I CTH last weekend's bride who rolled up 28 minutes late and then took another 6 minutes for photographs before she was ready to sashay down the aisle. That meant your truly not only played for a full 43 minutes but then 'filled in' for another 5 and a bit before launching into the chosen music for her entrance.
The woman only had to travel c800 yards to get to church FFS. WHY? 👹
It turned out that as they had stepped out of the door her chief bridesmaid’s dress had split all down a side seam. The delay was the time it had taken to sew her back in again.
28 minutes late, FFS!
Oh, and in answer to your question, Because She Can! It's all about control...
28 minutes late, FFS!
Oh, and in answer to your question, Because She Can! It's all about control...[/quote]
Because It's my day and i can do what I like... and never mind how it inconveniences anybody else.
It's what David would have done - by nearly half an hour, it would have been played on the pedal reeds!
You have to weave an impromptu chorale prelude on it. Introduce it in highly disguised form on a manual with a gentle 8'+2' diapason or flute, then gradually increase the registration and make the theme clearer until you're playing it on 32' Ophicleide with 16' Trumpet coupled to 8' reeds on the Great.
At a wedding at Our Place, the bride was 45 minutes late...
The visiting priest (we were in interregnum at the time) drily remarked that he now had no time in which to preach his usual 45-minute wedding sermon...
And the people all said Hallelujah!
Well, those of us who knew him did indeed breathe a sigh of relief. He was a lovely man, and an excellent priest in many ways, but O! his rambling er...umm...er...umm sermons...
If he'd even attempted to preach a sermon, we'd have all left precipitately (see my remarks, above).
Small but beautiful two manual tracker so not an option KLb. However, after 10 minutes I did go treat them to some incredibly dry Frescobaldi 😈
Yes, that is what we could have done - the church is not far from the river...