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After doing yet another ETA I've decided to insert some cuts so as to save your poor f-lists.
I've been going to physical therapy, thinking that the workman's comp claim had all gone through correctly, but Saturday I got a bill for over a thousand dollars. They'd paid some of the different charges, but not others, for reasons which apparently have not been explained at all to the people at the p.t. office. I'm going to go talk to my human resources woman this morning... I'm just trying to decide whether to phone her right now or just drive out there. It's close enough that the effect of darkening her cubical might be worth it, since she's worthless and incompetent.
In completely unrelated news, I bought a notebook filler for a small ringbinder that I had, but found that it was too small. Next size ringbinder down. Then I thought, oh, those littler ones fit in my pocket. I'll get one for work and then I can use the filler paper I bought by accident and get rid of the endless little books I have to keep replacing and the pages fall out of.
The refill doesn't fit in the new book. It's the right size, but the holes were punched a little too high and the bottom corner rubs on the release catch.
But here's the really fucked up part: This irritates me possibly more than the messed up p.t. bill. I'm going to take that refill with me to work right now and use the paper-cutter there to shorten all the pages.
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ETA:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
inscrutable's current events commentaries - a marvel of brevity.
ETA2: I did not, in fact, go camp in front of the HR person's office, but instead used the phone. Am feeling fairly happy at the moment that I have found out my case number and the name of my case manager at the department of Worker's Comp. Carefully hidden state secrets. The problem is partially that my case has exceeded the dollar amount that could have put it under "short-form closure" ($1,500) and now it has to go to Ajudication (sp?) and they have to decide whether to formally accept or reject it as a Worker's Comp case. Supposedly that will happen in a few days.
Meanwhile, as I've been doing this business of phoning this person then that person then that person then start all over again my tea has gotten cold and I haven't gone to the gym. Boo, hiss. I really should have done that before 8am, I had plenty of time. During which I read "Fortress of Solitude." Oh the palpable UST between the main character and his friend who he reads comic books with who's a grade older - from the very moment they meet. It's got to all go bad, because it's not a fanfic. This makes me sad.
I've been going to physical therapy, thinking that the workman's comp claim had all gone through correctly, but Saturday I got a bill for over a thousand dollars. They'd paid some of the different charges, but not others, for reasons which apparently have not been explained at all to the people at the p.t. office. I'm going to go talk to my human resources woman this morning... I'm just trying to decide whether to phone her right now or just drive out there. It's close enough that the effect of darkening her cubical might be worth it, since she's worthless and incompetent.
In completely unrelated news, I bought a notebook filler for a small ringbinder that I had, but found that it was too small. Next size ringbinder down. Then I thought, oh, those littler ones fit in my pocket. I'll get one for work and then I can use the filler paper I bought by accident and get rid of the endless little books I have to keep replacing and the pages fall out of.
The refill doesn't fit in the new book. It's the right size, but the holes were punched a little too high and the bottom corner rubs on the release catch.
But here's the really fucked up part: This irritates me possibly more than the messed up p.t. bill. I'm going to take that refill with me to work right now and use the paper-cutter there to shorten all the pages.
---------------------
ETA:
inscrutable's current events commentaries - a marvel of brevity.ETA2: I did not, in fact, go camp in front of the HR person's office, but instead used the phone. Am feeling fairly happy at the moment that I have found out my case number and the name of my case manager at the department of Worker's Comp. Carefully hidden state secrets. The problem is partially that my case has exceeded the dollar amount that could have put it under "short-form closure" ($1,500) and now it has to go to Ajudication (sp?) and they have to decide whether to formally accept or reject it as a Worker's Comp case. Supposedly that will happen in a few days.
Meanwhile, as I've been doing this business of phoning this person then that person then that person then start all over again my tea has gotten cold and I haven't gone to the gym. Boo, hiss. I really should have done that before 8am, I had plenty of time. During which I read "Fortress of Solitude." Oh the palpable UST between the main character and his friend who he reads comic books with who's a grade older - from the very moment they meet. It's got to all go bad, because it's not a fanfic. This makes me sad.
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At least you know this. I often get confused and upset when mainstream movies and books don't turn out like fanfic. That's probably why only read about science and history now. History has plenty UST though. At least I can read science books with my my mind (nearly) out of the gutter!