Sundry Items from the Week

Job Losses and Promotions: That's the way the cookie crumbles

* This week the revolving door twirled on, taking with it our amazingly organized and insightful Operations Manager. I'm not really sure why.

* Our marketing coordinator was promoted to marketing manager. No one is quite certain- herself included- what her new job responsibilities will be since she's not really doing anything manager-worthy, but I'm sure that will all be sorted out. She's a bright girl and I like her a lot so I'm trying not to listen to the rumors about her simply complaining about her job and therefore getting promoted.

* Because of my years of loyal service (all three and counting), I was given a title change--to Senior Marketing Manager. Though I think it's well-deserved (and a long time coming), I am well aware this change was made only because a 23-year-old was about to be made my equal and that wouldn't fly in our company our with any of our partners.

Medical Insurance 101

I decided to break up with my old doctor and find a new one. Michele and I had been seeing each other for 12 years. Sometimes change is good. Plus, I didn't feel like driving into Oak Park every time I needed to see her. I decided to pseudo-cheat on her, trying out a new doctor before I ended things for good.

I'm happy I chose to take this path because things went horribly wrong. Months ago, I had checked on the Blue Cross Blue Shield web site to see if the doctor recommendation a friend had given was under my insurance. It was. Score! I called to make an appointment--and double-checked again at that point, verifying they accepted my insurance. Oh yes, MoC, of course. Wonderful! I arrived on Monday eager to meet someone who was about the see a lot of me.

This is where things go horribly wrong. As I am completing the copious new patient forms, the receptionist is supposed to be making copies of my insurance card. For the first 15 minutes, she's gossiping with co-workers and then decides to even look at my card. At which point she barks my name, and up I go to chat with Ms. Snottypants.

Ms. S: Ummm, we have a problem.

MoC: Ok...

Ms. S [throwing insurance card]: We don't accept this insurance.

MoC: Well, the BSBC web site sure says you do. And I double-checked when I made my appointment.

Ms. S: You couldn't have. We haven't accepted this insurance for, like, 3 years.

MoC: For "like" 3 years for 3 years? And either way, I know what I saw online and what the answer was when I asked three months ago.

Ms. S: Well, I don't know what you want me to tell you. I just know we do not accept this insurance...But, if you'd like to still see the doctor, that's fine. But you need to pay out of pocket.

At which point I politely thank her for wasting my time, collected my belongings and left. She can do what she wishes with my half-completed medical history.

Once in the parking garage, I dialed Michele and made an appointment with the lovely ladies that work the reception desk there. Sometimes change isn't all it's cracked up to be. That drive to Oak Park might be worth it after all.

Acquaintance Overload

A couple weeks ago, a former friend/current acquaintance IM'd me at work and asked if I'd like to do lunch. It was her last day before going on maternity leave and I felt bad that I had plans...but not too bad because she's one of those people that once you get past pleasantries there is nothing to talk about. I declined but told her that once she'd had the baby, I'd grab my best friend (and her good friend) and come over with lunch so we could catch up and see the baby. Seemed fair enough. I mentioned this to J and she was cool with it, too. We still had weeks, I figured, before she would want to see us.

Wrong. J called me and asked if I'd like to meet her and Former Friend for a casual dinner. Though seeing Former Friend wasn't my idea of a great night out, it was close to my house so why not? I wish wish wish I would've come up with a why not! It was a miserable experience. Former Friend is a miserable person! J and I arrived around the same time and Former Friend flagged us down as she was stuffing salad and soup into her mouth. With roughage still in her mouth, she urged us to sit down and said something about her thinking we wouldn't be eating so she had ordered. What?!?! She was snotty and rude and just all wrong through the entire meal. When she called her husband to come collect her, I said a silent thank-you to my guardian angel who was probably crying in pain as well. When Former Friend took leave of the restaurant, I made sure J knew that that would never be happening again. Somehow, I think I am still roped into going to Former Friend's house for the baby-viewing and lunch-bringing. Damn.

One Person's Trash is Another's Prize

I have had a floor lamp sitting in my living room since the day I moved in. Why Titterton left it is beyond me, and it pissed me off for the first three months...at which point I lost the desire to talk about it or any energy to actually dispose of it. So for over a year, this thing has literally just stood on the fringe of my living room collecting dust. A few days ago, Rafferty was telling me about how a former co-worker of mine (who still works with her) has a habit of walking around the stock room or empty cubes at work looking for freebies addressed to people who are no longer with the company (I bet I still get some good stuff. I should really look into having her forward those to me). The basic gist of the story was G would collect anything and swear she needs it so long as it's free.

As Rafferty said, "You could tell the office, 'I have a can. Who wants a can?' And she would be the first person running up to you, 'Me! I need a can!'" So that's where I got the idea that I could unload the lamp on G. Not that she's a charity case. Because she's not. She just likes free stuff. Anything free. She's young, newly married, and trying to furnish a new apartment. I looked at this as a complete service. So I took a picture of the lamp and emailed G and sure enough she jumped on it. She swung by after work and I gave her the lamp and she took two books I was planning on giving to a used book store. She can do whatever she wants to with the lamp. No returns on that one! She helped me out, the sweet thing! Love it.

My Gladware

What is it with people thinking that Gladware brought to their parties are theirs to keep? The stuff in the Gladware is yours; not the containers themselves. Geesh! If I had a dime for every stolen container, I'd have enough to buy a whole new set of varying sizes. The long 4th of July holiday has seen the loss of two of my containers. I'm not made of money, folks. A girl needs a few plastic containers to call her own. Geesh...

Coming up: Weekend Pub Crawl

Today we're celebrating CC's husband's birthday. She always does it up big. This year she carefully mapped out fun bars with healthy time periods, christened it Boozapalooza, and encouraged all of us to eat a good breakfast. Though I doubt very much I'll be making it for the 12:30 start, my goal is to make it to The Globe and the gin mills thereafter, leading us to the Brauhaus and corresponding after-Schnitzel watering holes.

In interesting pub crawl news, FTF claims to have never been on one. WTF?!?! True? How is it possible to live in Milwaukee and never go on a pub crawl? I know that, after this revelation, he was expecting a generous invitation to today's festivities. I just couldn't bring myself to extend one. Pub crawl recap to follow.