It feels like I am being condemned to a slow death from anxiety and uncertainty. I am a flashy, panicky, nightmarey mess. Some of the uncertainty relates to a situation in which my husband is acting as a liaison of sorts, to try to shield me from the anxiety inherent in it.
Something was left up in the air to the degree that I was terrified that it was either forgotten, with damage inflicted by delay, or else something was up and the deal was off the rails and we just didn't know it yet.
Actually, this fits a couple of different anxiety minefields that we are tip-toeing through at the moment.
One involves the firing/hiring of a fiduciary, and the signing of a contract. There are confidentiality concerns that effectively muzzle me from talking about it here or anywhere else. And talking might help, if I could safely do it.
All I will say is, I got pissed at hubby for saying he was going to wait to deal with it (i.e., leave it hanging over my head making me dysfunctional) because he didn't want to pressure the guy he's dealing with. Uh, honey? CLUE! The minor irritation and inconvenience to a third party is nothing compared to the PTSD craziness that waiting is gonna cause me! Argh.
My husband is a terminally nice guy. He hates to inconvenience anyone. He'll screw himself over (and by extension, me) rather than cause the slightest annoyance to anyone else. Sometimes that irks me. Sometimes, when it directly relates to a PTSD triggery thing, it positively drives me crazy.
But I guess I shouldn't complain too much, because he's trying to help.
The other situation concerns my most hated category of scumbag du jour-- debt collectors.
We made a deal to settle one of my credit card debts.
I have been burned before by a collection agency that played games, so we insist that we get a settlement letter in advance of payment, stating that they are taking $XXX as full settlement of the account, and what the original card number was, and that it will be reported to the national credit bureaus.
Hubby made the deal on 11/18. We get a call a few days later that its approved and to be on the lookout for the settlement letter.
On 11/28, the day after Thanksgiving, we get an urgent message (and still no letter...) Pay now by electronic check or the deal is off. Because their secretary was sick, the letter did not go out, and 11/28 is the last date for them to get the money under the terms of the letter agreement we still have not seen.
We say, no dice without the letter.
They say, we'll email it.
We say no, on the advice of our attorney (which related to another matter entirely), email is not accepted as a business record in court, and does not adequately prove that there is a settlement agreement. They want us to take a chance that they won't decide to come after us for the remainder. Trust these bottom feeders? Not unless I was hallucinating or drunk. Sorry. No deal.
So now we hear how its gonna wind up raising the number they will require us to pay to settle, because we aren't living up to the deal.
Uh, what deal?-- there's no letter, there's no deal. The letter was a material term of the agreement. They are the ones who queered the deal.
So today, in my mail, there's a letter dated 11/18, which states payment must be received by 11/28 (4 days ago), which is postmarked 11/29. After the supposed payment deadline.
These fuckers are playing games.
They ain't gonna win...
So -- my holiday greetings to collection agencies who try to fuck with me:
DEAR PARASITIC, SCAVENGING, ANIMATED PIECES OF EXCREMENT: F.O.A.D. GO DIRECTLY TO THE END OF THE LONG LINE OF PEOPLE WE OWE MONEY, AND IF YOU'RE LUCKY, MAYBE THERE'LL BE SOMETHING LEFT WHEN WE GET THROUGH PAYING OFF THE PEOPLE WHO DIDN'T TRY TO SCAM US.
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