Exhausting day driving to and from Gainesville with unexpected extra work even though I called the institution with which (whom?) I had business beforehand to ensure I had all the right paperwork.
Jokes on them because even though they were all “Form of ID and you’re all set!” I brought the Big Ass Folder Of Important Papers (BAFOIP? Perhaps Batman has bitched slapped the Riddler. Oh, if only it were that entertaining) and calmly produced all the extra things.
I also calmly wrote them the letter they requested discussing how I wanted the transactions handled.
I also calmly contacted my mother and brother for extra information that wasn’t in my BAFOIP.
Then the institution decided, after all of that, they could not handle the transactions as I requested anyway.
And when the gentleman told him he was sorry and understood my frustration, I calmly told him that he did not. He did not care for my grandmother for two years and find driving to Gainesville a haunting and difficult task in of itself. He did not understand that being the person closest to a relative makes it harder sometimes to fulfill their wishes and that was what I was here trying to do.
I might have also calmly cried a bit during that part.
In the end, they caved to my request. But I had already contacted my mother to agree on handling it their way. I was not about to change it again on her.
The frustrating/depressing/ironic thing is that this institution was a financial institution. (Yeah…I’m sure you were all confused by my vagueness.) And receiving money should be a happy thing, right? Not a crying and stressed event?
Or maybe it is and I’ve just romanticized it from TV.
(Oh yeah, guess what was flashing in my car on the way home as the engine stuttered? NOT MY BOOBS.)