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...
- Four years into widowhood, after one year of incredible happiness and nearly 14 years of single blessedness. Have given up perfect manicures and pretty hands in order to resume playing the soprano recorder and to see if I can figure out how to play bluegrass banjo. Singing in the shower. Still really, *really* love to knit!