Ears like a bat?

Laughing at myself. I was transcribing a tape for one of my attorneys. There was a fairly quiet conversation going on, on the other side of my cubicle, about the “worst hamburger in America”. And I typed “after which [Plaintiff] was given a prescription hamburger in the emergency room.”

It’s all grist for the mill.

Last night I figured out how to post to Facebook from my cell phone. I turned off the notification features; otherwise I would spend all day responding to text messages, and where’s the fun in that? Not to mention that they might take a dim view of it at work. And Upstairs.

I came home and stretched out my legs and finished the left back of Faith’s sweater, up to the armscye. This morning I woke ahead of the alarm and began the raglan decreases. I will probably finish them at lunch today, but it’s doubtful that I will get that piece joined to the rest of the sweater tonight. Why?

The new guy is cooking dinner. Yes, I may have mentioned that before. You’re likely to read it again before I hit send on this post. I have the route mapped on a PDF on my computer at work. I have his cool-packs ready to return (the ones that came home with me from the dance a few weeks back, when he brought me Version 1.1 of his German Chocolate Cheesecake).

I have two suits to answer today before I leave on stay-cation. The answer is due on one of them next Monday. The other could theoretically wait until I return, but I know that my lawyer will be chomping on the bit. He could easily be the poster child for proactive.

The EOBs that I requested, arrived in yesterday’s mail for two visits to my PCP earlier this year, which for some mysterious reason were not automatically submitted to my medical expense reimbursement account. And I need to pick up a copy of the billing sheet for a third visit, which is yet to show up on my HMO’s records. I can do that when I am in Arlington for my eye exam next Monday.

I also need to have my friend, the paralegal, teach me how to redact a PDF. I have saved copies of my bank statements for the months in question. If I can obliterate everything on the PDF except the lines showing that I had co-payments, I can print off the edited statements and submit them with the EOB that states no co-payment was required for my well-woman. Because they certainly did liposuction that money from my account!

Bureaucracy: it’s what’s for breakfast.

Because we know what’s for dinner tonight: authentic British fish and chips [malt vinegar, no less!], coleslaw, onion rings, and something decadent for dessert, which I will pick up between the office and the new guy’s place.

Now to figure out what I’m going to wear...