How’s that book of mine coming along? Can you say “lessons in frustration?”
If you’ve not heard, I’m crafting a book about the Just TypiKel adventures and people encountered over the ten years (1983 -1993) that I worked with my mother in her Vancouver-based Asian antiques and collectibles shop. Think Antiques Road Show meets Auntie Mame meets James Herriot.
It’s a hefty project that I’m thoroughly enjoying.
However, I’ve recently encountered a hiccup.
Lessons In Frustration
Damn her, Bless her, Mom started a new diary for each of our multiple overseas buying trips. Excellent. Except these gems are missing. She swears they must be in her storage locker that’s located in the basement of her apartment. Let’s hope so.
Meanwhile, while I’ve got you here, let me
vent reveal a few more lessons in frustration.
I recently shared that I’m back on Weight Watchers. Because I’m a Life Timer at my goal weight, I can join the Weight Watchers’ online site for free. All I need to do is pick up the Monthly Pass, scratch the access code and enter that number into the appropriate area on the site. Bingo.
Except, silly me forgot to get the Monthly Pass in April. OR May. SO, I was rightly charged for each month. A quick phone call to Weight Watchers and I learned all I needed to do to get these charges revoked was to get a Monthly Pass at my next meeting and call them back with the access code.
Naturally, in Just TypiKel fashion, they were all out of Monthly Passes at my next meeting. My wonderful leader saved the day by scratching a fresh Pass at home and sending me the photo.
My subsequent call to Weight Watchers was lengthy. Apparently there is another Kelly McKenzie born in the same year as me. Was I that person? Had I joined WW in 2011? No and no. Weight Watchers and I go waaay back.
There were more questions to answer including the pertinent “Was I currently breast-feeding?” Sweet Jesus.
That’d be a medical miracle. Had she not just heard my birthdate?
15 minutes more of this and I was struggling to tamper down my frustration. I was dealing with a trainee who was doing her very best.
My inbox soon lit up with “Welcome to Weight Watchers” and offers for free sign ups in June and July. Good grief. Five minutes more and she finally shared that she couldn’t do any refunds without her supervisor’s approval and said supervisor had just left for the day. All would be rectified by email the next day. Guaranteed.
Four days later the problem still existed. I phoned them again and this time was on hold for 20 minutes before being connected. Apparently I had two accounts with Weight Watchers. We needed to cancel one and reactivate the other. Done. We were good to go.
I hung up and tried to log on. After the site refused to accept my password several times, I attempted to change it for a new one. They sent me this:
That email address for the password reset? NOTHING like mine. Another 20 minutes of elevator music and problem solved. Canadians must log onto the Canadian version of WW. Just TypiKel.
Ok, I’ll leave you with this lovely photo of my dear 93 year-old mother and her latest creation.
See how she hunches up her shoulders as she paints? She tore 3/4 of her rotator cuffs (hauling herself up a rope ladder onto a Russian icebreaker 5 years ago) and she’s in constant pain as the docs can’t recommend surgery … You’d think that be a key lesson in frustration. Nope. She chooses to “rise above it” and carry on.
And no, I’m sorry, but that painting isn’t available. It no longer exists. Mom encountered her own lessons in frustration with it and came to hate it. So she gessoed it out and is starting anew.
You’ll have to wait until next time to learn about the hellish time I’m having in getting an expensive and unnecessary airline ticket refunded. Remember, my son is spending the majority of his summer as a college intern on another continent? Uh huh. It’s special.
Enough about me and my lessons in frustration. I’m curious about you. What frustrating things are being thrown at you? If you’d care to share, I’d love to hear.