More Bumps

An update from OurUltimateDate.com

Things got a lot worse this past week, but there is huge promise that they’ll be getting a lot better next week. Well, maybe.

It’s amazing how much of our lives are driven by computers. I just got mine back from the iHospital and I feel a whole person again. But then another computerized disaster struck. I got a phone call from my bank.

“Mr. Wills, were you in Croatia yesterday?” asked the bank rep.

If she would have asked me that a few months back – when I didn’t always wake up remembering what country I was in or if I was coming or going – then I would have had to think hard before answering. (I often forget what I have for breakfast.) However, for the past three months I’ve been very much resident in a tiny shared apartment in a large metropolis on a small, rainy green island. Of this, I am certain.

“No, I wasn’t in Croatia yesterday,” I duly replied.

Turns out that someone (who I assume dresses like the Hamburgler) cloned my bank card and withdrew what little savings I’ve been surviving off of, putting my bank account into the red.

In consequence, my bank card had to be shredded, and I was told I’d get another in the post in 5-7 business days. I was also told that – following an investigation of the fraud – I would get my funds back, but it might take awhile.

Then suddenly I remembered that a company actually owed me some money from last month. With a sense of urgency given the circumstances, I called up the accounts department to enquire about my late cheque. Due to some sort of paper snafu, my cheque was never issued, but the accountant apologised and said it would go out in a cheque run next week.

Then I opened the (free) newspaper to discover that the post office is on strike for all of next week, which means both my cheque and new bank card will soon become be members of a massive backlog and be delayed for another fortnight.

This prompted me to wonder if the phone systems were down – though surprisingly they weren’t – so because a few eager recruitment agents hadn’t called me back regarding some job interviews, I called them. As it turned out, some office-virus is going around and most of the agents I like were off sick this entire past week! To boot, two of the employers they have been speaking with on my behalf are short in the HR departments either for sickness or vacation. Then when everyone (hopefully) comes back, they’ll have a huge backlog of their own to deal with, as well as the postal strike.

But I guess the world is getting smaller. I live in London where Croatians get to tap my meager savings, British civil servants act as if they are in France and viruses know no borders.

But it isn’t all bad news. On the upside I got a temp job that will last for a month and is flexible so I can squeeze out for other interviews.

And next week CeCe and I are going to take some massive steps forward on all three of our OUDBOD Dreams!

I’ll tell you more next week, provided my laptop doesn’t get shot in an altercation with someone “going postal”, I don’t catch some devastating virus from a recruitment agent, and – above all – Apocalypse doesn’t happen.