…to type the numbers 40?
Seriously.
Why am I all aflutter about two itsy bitsy numbers?
Well, you’ll have to allow me to explain.
First of all, in case you haven’t figured out by now, nothing in my life is easy.
Seriously.
I mean, I couldn’t even wind a simple hank of yarn last night without encountering major yarn spit and about twelve dozen knots. It took me almost three hours to wind 100g of the stuff.
Ugh.
You’d think that writing a check and sending it in to pay a bill would be simple.
Not for this girl.
My mama always told me I liked to do things the hard way.
Maybe she was actually right about something after all (it only took me 41 years to admit this).
Here’s the deal.
You might remember that last summer, I had some trouble getting my unemployment checks. For whatever reason, the state agency that doles out the money simply quit sending my checks.
It took me half of the summer to get it straightened out, but I finally got my money.
I was incredibly relieved that I didn’t have to walk the beach with a metal detector trying to scrape together enough change to pay my bills.
I jest.
Sort of.
Well, in August, the governmental powers-that-be decided that I had been overpaid and, in fact, owed THEM $604.00
Yeah…as in hundreds of dollars.
I cried.
I prayed.
I appealed the determination.
I lost.
Life sucked.
By then, I had started working as a teacher, but my pay is very, very tiny.
I’m not exaggerating.
To illustrate, I can just tell you that the place where Chicky will be life guarding this summer pays more per hour than what I am making.
Take a moment to feel sorry for me.
Ok.
Moment’s up.
I love my job, I really do. I am also grateful for the salary, however small it is.
Now, let’s resume the story.
After I lost my appeal, I was told that I could pay back the overpayment in monthly increments of 10% of the original finding.
$60.40.
And so I began writing the checks.
I loathe writing these checks. I feel that the determination was made unfairly. I had to put another bill on deferrment just to pay this.
It sucks.
To make things worse, a couple of weeks ago, I received another letter from the same agency informing me that they had determined that I owed an additional $100 for more overpayment.
Seriously?
I cried again.
I just didn’t get it. There was no further explanation, and I dared not call in fear of them deciding to take my children’s future earnings to pay for some fabricated finding.
So, with this bad attitude lurking in the recesses of my mind, I checked the mail on Saturday.
It was my monthly statement.
I noticed that the notation for Last Payment Received indicated that I had paid $60.00.
Ok…this was not good.
I pulled out my check register and saw that I had written down $60.40. To be safe, I checked my account online.
It would seem as if the check cleared for the full amount…$60.40.
I was not happy.
That led me to wonder about my previous payments.
Guess what?
Two checks have cleared for $60.00 instead of the $60.40 that I had written them for.
How do I know this? Well, because in this day of technology, I can see copies of my checks right there on my bank’s website.
Now, at this point, I didn’t know who to blame…my bank or the not-so-smart agency.
Naturally, I vented my anger at the agency, so I printed out the copies of my checks, stapled them to this month’s payment, in which I think I might have bolded the numbers “40,” and added a “personal” message that advised them to properly enter payment amounts.
I also felt it my duty to inform the agency that I was tired of being nickeled and dimed.
So there.
Yesterday, I called my bank just to make sure I wasn’t going to have to eat my words.
The representative I spoke with assured me that the agency’s employees had keyed in my payment incorrectly.
I felt vindicated.
Good thing. My payment and note had already been posted in the mail.
I asked my bank to reissue payment for the missing check amounts.
Call me stubborn, but I refuse to write a check for the $1.20 the agency “thinks” I haven’t paid.
The agency’s bank can talk to my bank.
I have decided, henceforth, that I will never file for unemployment again. It was a blessing, for a while, but it’s quickly turned into a nightmare.
All because someone doesn’t know how to enter numbers properly.
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