I started this week just a wee bit off. I sat down with a fresh cup of black coffee, zipped through the Monday edition of Newsday, read Amy, picked up a pen and proceeded to ink in the answers to the Monday crossword puzzle. The clues were easy at first, as they should be on Monday.
I do my puzzles in ink. I go through the hints fast and in order. First across, then down. Occasionally I’ll lightly ink in the letters but mostly I just make a mess of it all. But that’s okay — tomorrow is another day, another puzzle. But this week, this Monday — for the first time since I started doing the puzzles (again) — I couldn’t finish it. My laptop was on the table next to me, fully charged. I could look up the answers. yes, the thought crossed my mind. But it was Monday. I usually don’t get desperate til Wednesday or Thursday.
Okay, relax, just a bad day. But the same thing happened on Tuesday. I couldn’t finish that one either. And I couldn’t bring myself to peek at the answers online.
It was Monday when I received the letter from Bank of America.
Back in June/July I had an issue with Bank of America which I wrote about in my blog. STRIKE ONE!
So without going into much detail at the moment — because I really don’t have the energy — I will say that Drew’s bank card was stolen during a business trip. Bank of America Fraud Department called me and brought it to my attention — suspicious activity, they said. I had already noticed it online. We both spoke with a rep on the phone and also filed a claim saying that we are both authorized users and neither of us authorized the withdrawal of money from our account. Sounds pretty clear to me?
Here’s the response we got not even 2 weeks later:
“After concluding a thorough investigation of the above referenced claim, it has been determined that no error has occurred in this instance. Our records show the transaction activity in question was authorized and posted, or billed, correctly to your account. Blah, blah, blah.
Bank of America appreciates your business and values you as a customer . . . more blah . . .”
Thorough investigation? When I called the bank and repeated what I thought were major details the representative said, “I’m adding these details to your inquiry.”
“What do you mean — you’re adding it? What exactly were they investigating?”
“None of this is in the initial report, the case is reopened and they will use this information to reevaluate it,” he answers. Sounds like Drew and I wasted a lot of phone time. STRIKE TWO!
I should hear from them by the end of next week. The bank had to send me another sheet with additional claims on it. I wasn’t surprised to see that the information on it was incorrect. Surprised? not really. STRIKE . . . !
Can anyone recommend a bank? I’m thinking Capital One . . . Citibank . . . ?????
And here it is Friday, my eyes are itchy and my nose is drippy! Hey, wait a minute . . . my hip feels fine and my leg doesn’t ache today. (Maybe I should let a stupid puzzle rule my life.)
“You did cook these perfect you know,” says my drew this Friday morning as the perfectly runny (cage free) yolk drips down his cute chinny-chin-chin, “but they are a little salty.” Every time I crack an egg into a hot pan I pray . . . pray that the egg will be perfect! This morning I decided to add the salt and fresh pepper after the eggs were on the plate instead of while they are cooking. What I learned: Salt early, pepper after.
Perfect but salty. Go figure!?