Saturday, May 4, 2019

General Griping

It took me a long time to go through my mother's paperwork to prep her taxes for the accountant. Part of this--a large part to be honest--is just a case of procrastination. I also made the tactical mistake of starting my mother's taxes before Jeff's and my taxes.  I could have prepped ours in two or three hours and have it done.

I'm still waiting for one 1099. I requested it on April 11. This week I called to follow up. The mailed 1099 didn't include our unit number, so we didn't receive it. (Our regular mailman must have been off.) Then the company attempted to fax the 1099 to me, but it was a double sided fax that jammed our printer. I tried to get the person who had sent the fax on the telephone. Instead I got another office--Jacksonville, Florida. The rep checked with her supervisor who said I hadn't sent a written request. No, I said, I did it by phone. Jacksonville needed a written request which I could send by fax. I should have gotten the 1099 today by her estimate, but no such luck. I'll have to call again. For each call, I have to explain my situation twice. It's so frustrating.

I don't understand how dealing with dead people's things works. I canceled my mother's credit card by an automated call system. When I tried to cancel her telephone, it took three tries. I got a confirmation number the first time. It didn't matter. The rep on the third attempt required a power-of-attorney. By that time, my mother was dead and the power-of-attorney invalid, but I had to send it anyway. It must have worked; I haven't received any more bills.

I got a bill from a collection agency for oil/gas in a property in Hilton Head. Yes my mother had lived there, but I doubted my stepfather had left a bill unpaid. When I called, I realized the agency didn't even have my mother's legal address. The rep said something like, Walker is a common name. Do they just bill anyone and hope the schmuck pays off?

The weather's been lousy lately--especially on Fridays when we want to meet our friends at the dog park: too many days of rain. "When did we move to Seattle?" a friend asked. His backyard hadn't dried out in weeks. We seem to get one or two dry days then rain threatening all day every day.

Damn frustrating.

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