Customer Service - a lost art?

Tonight, my dear friends, brings to a close a 5 day trial on my admittedly limited patience.  Five days ago I decided to upgrade our satellite package slightly, still within our budget, but a better package deal with some channels we've really missed.  An hour after I upgraded the trouble started.  I suddenly had half of the channels I'd had before, and none of the new channels.  After an hour on line with a live technician and another half hour on the phone, I was informed that my current receiver was "toast" and needed to be replaced for $75.  I argued this, citing a 15 year history with the company, and the cost was promptly waived.  Unfortunately, we had no service until the new receiver arrived.

Today I found that UPS had tucked the receiver behind a garden hose yesterday, so I retrieved the box and excitedly installed our pretty new, steam lined receiver.  All by myself.  Not an easy task when dealing with a component that also connects to a stereo receiver, DVD, and TV.  I then attempted to activate it and was given an error message that I needed to contact customer service.  I again got on the internet chat for the company, after waiting in line for over 20 minutes, and was told that my new receiver was now activated.  The tech then tried to end the session.  I objected saying that the onscreen guide still didn't show the proper channels.  We then argued about my upgraded package, the cost, and the timing of the loss of channels.  After 20 minutes of this I was abruptly transferred to another "senior" technician, and we started all over again.

This session went downhill even more rapidly than the previous conversation.  The final outcome was being told that I had to pay $95 for a technician to come to the house in 3 days, at an undetermined time so I would have to take off work, because the problem had to be my dish or cables.  When I asked how they explained that everything worked fine until an hour after upgrading the tech responded with, and I quote, "Coincidence".  I then firmly told the tech that I apologized to him/her personally, but that I was totally fed up and would be cancelling my service.  Obviously gone were the days when the company would send a tech on a weekend at no charge because the cause of the problem wasn't due to something we had done or by an act of nature.  I've been a faithful customer and staunch supporter of the company, but that was now over.  The tech's response, you ask?  "Ok."  Seriously.

I spent another couple of hours surfing the net checking on other TV options, streaming to computer, upgrading Netflix, etc.  When my roommate came home we discussed it further, and agreed that cancelling was the best option, and that between us we had enough other methods to find entertainment and current events.  So I called... (deep sigh).  After discussing my recent events with the live person on the phone, he was offering to upgrade my equipment, waive all repair fees, give me the package I really wanted at a discount for a year, then at normal price for a year, and send the repairman on a Saturday, also at no cost.  The hitch was that I had to agree to a 2 year contract.  I was teetering on the edge when my roommate stepped into the room and gave me "that look".  I cancelled the service.  The rep was nice enough to say that there would be no charges, and that if I call again in 24 hours I would receive a refund for the past 5 days of no service.  Basically, I should get a refund of about $1.50 in 60-90 days.

And just so you know, I was extremely nice to the live person who tried to keep me as a customer.  I even told him that I'd been a bit rude to the tech earlier, for which I felt bad, but I'm sorely disappointed with the company.  I think if I'd pushed it I could have gotten free service for a year the way he was scrambling to keep me, but I didn't feel right about that.  Mostly.

I'm exhausted, wasted 7 hours of my weekend, and ate too much ice cream a little while ago.  Now I'm having a nice Kahlua and milk (low fat, low carb - I'm not going totally off the deep end), watching Fraggle Rock, tormenting the cats, and laughing with my roommate.

The moral of the story, boys and girls?  If it works just the way it is - for heaven's sake don't upgrade it, don't replace it, and don't call customer service!

Mother versus Son

Mom:  Please stop wearing my socks.
Son:  They were in my drawer.
Mom:  Because you sort the clean laundry!

Mom: (texts) It's 1:15am, you're late.
Mom: (texts) It's 1:25am, if you're not home in 5 minutes you're grounded.
Mom: (texts) It's 1:35am, now I'm getting scared.  Where are you?
Mom: (calls) It's 2:00am, where are you?
Son: In bed.
Mom: What time did you come in?
Son: Just before 1am, you were in bed so I didn't say 'hi'.
Mom: Oh.  Nevermind.  Sleep well, I love you.

Son: Mom, how do you tell a girl you're not interested but want to be friends?
Mom: You tell her you're glad you're friends.  Be straight with her but kind.  Treat her like you would any good friend and answer questions honestly with concern for her feelings and you'll be fine.
Son: And she won't be upset?
Mom: Nope, not a chance in hell.  She's be heartbroken and you'll feel like crap.
Son: Gee, thanks Mom.

Insecurities and other demons...

Oh, yes, I am definitely a "theatre person".  This came to my attention again this evening when I realized that I am just as insecure as so many performers I know.  Obviously, insecurity knows no bounds – or job description.  No, I'm not a performer, I run the lights.  Doesn't sound like much, but I try to do it well, to always do my best, to be as perfect as possible.  Most people never notice the lights, unless they're bad.  The lights should add to the show, not distract from it.  I try to make the lighting as artistic and effective as possible, so that the audience doesn't notice the lights have changed, but they feel the difference.  It's important to me.  So when I go to the last rehearsal before the show opens and am told "You're just not getting it", it's upsetting.

I then spent the next 2 hours questioning every single lighting change – all 186 of them.  By the end I'm a wreck, and finish up the evening with a "knockdown drag-out" fight with the director.  He says I'm not listening to him, I say he's not listening to me.  I haven't received one single note (that's a correction, for you non-theatre folk) since I started this show, which was beginning to make me very nervous.  It's very difficult to know what someone else is thinking, what changes need to be made, what it is they actually want – when they don't tell you.  For myself, I probably should have asked, but I assumed if there was a problem I'd be told.

Needless to say, the evening did not end well.  I snapped, he snapped, I got snotty, he got snotty – basically, we became a pair of 6 year olds throwing temper tantrums.  Not my finest moment by any means.  Now, having been home for a couple of hours, I find I'm obsessing about it.  Not just the falling out with someone who is extremely important to me, but the incredible insecurities of possibly not doing my job well, of making a mistake.  He and I have had falling outs before, and probably will again, but we're still family.  And as much as I'd like to blame this entire incident on him, I can't.

Insecurity, anxiety, and a complete lack of self-confidence.  A triple threat to my own sense of well-being, to my own emotional sanity, so to speak.  So, what to do about it?  I've examined it, I've tried to deny it, I've tried to accept it, I've even tried to eat my way through it – but that's an entirely different set of insecurities that I won't go into now.  So, what do I do?  I remind myself that I am good at what I do.  I remind myself that making a mistake isn't the end of the world.  I remind myself that I have lots of friends and family who love me, in spite of my faults.  And finally, I remind myself that it's past my bedtime, and worrying about what happened isn't going to change it.  If it isn't what he wants, it's not my fault, and not my problem if I don't get any guidance.  My focus needs to be on taking care of myself, and doing the very best job I possibly can for the cast and the audience.  So, off I go to bed, insecurities, anxieties, and cats, all in one bed.

Do Miracles Really Happen?

I've always believed in miracles.  Not the larger than life miracles, but the miracles of everyday life.  Babies, snowflakes, the smell of grass after a spring rain, the love of someone special, a best friend.  Those are all miracles.

Some of you may think this is blasphemous, for which I apologize, but I think another miracle may have happened today.  I'm afraid to hope, but I seem to be hoping anyway.  I think the ex may have actually fixed this latest screw up of his, and removed me from the loan.  I haven't heard from him, but the bank called me to sign some papers that will transfer the entire loan to him, and I'm out of it altogether.  I have no idea what happened, and may never know, which I can live with.  It's just such a relief that this may be over.

I'm afraid to hope, afraid to tell Nathan only to have both of our hopes dashed yet again.  I will tell him, because my wonderful son asked me to promise that I would hold nothing back.  I wanted to protect him, to make sure that he still loved his dad, and could respect his dad, for his sake, not for his dad's.  My handsome, mature young man said that he wanted to know everything or he couldn't help me to work through all of this.  He is truly my biggest miracle.

I can't thank my family and friends enough for their thoughts and prayers.  It worked.  Although the stress of this has affected my mental and physical health (I'm getting sick!), my heart is overflowing with love for everyone around me.  I don't have the right words to express what I feel.

So... although I'm afraid to hope that this latest disaster of his may be over, I'm definitely not as worried as I was.  Things are tight for us, but we'll make it through.  Miracles are everywhere.  Believe in them.  I do.

I Just Can't Believe What He's Done This Time!

So, where to begin?  It's been quite awhile since my last blog post.  Life has had it's usual ups and downs, good and bad, happy and sad.  My mother's health issues, work stress, life with one teenager and 3 cats, latest theatre production, art projects, fabulous friends.  I may have been frustrated at times, but life was finally starting to look really good again, for the most part.  Invested in new phones for the kid and I, which of course comes with the new, higher, 2 year contract.  My son is doing really well, and is still the hi-light of my life.  Invested in an iPad - I know, I really didn't need it - but it is so freaking cool!  And it's been very useful at work.  A good friend whom I adore will be moving in with us, which will help with the house and the finances.  Things are looking up.  Or so I thought.

Then the ex-husband rears his ugly head, so to speak.  Just before last night's show I opened to mail to find out that he has defaulted on a joint loan and the bank is coming after me.  It was a Personal Line of Credit (PLC) that was in both of our names when we separated.  The agreement was that he would pay it off over time, and in exchange I would pay off his dentist and Les Scwab bills right away.  When we separated the PLC was under $2,400, and the payments were quite reasonable.  It was the only bill he had to assume when we separated, I kept everything else.

Little did I know that he was making the minimum payments, and then continued to borrow on the damn thing until the balance was over $3,500.  He changed the address but never took me off it, so he's been getting the notices and I was totally unaware.  My fault for trusting him, I know.  I also screwed up by not having it written into the divorce decree, which means I'm still liable for the entire balance.  I don't have any funds, savings, or retirement left.  I cashed out what little I had left to get our son through his senior year, which isn't cheap these days!

I honestly don't know what to do.  I have 10 days to pay the current balance of $3,398 or it goes to collections and they garnish my wages.  We're just squeaking by now between my job, my art, and what little freelance work I can pick up.  Thus the room mate in hopes of making it through the winter without having to shut off the heat.  There is no way we'll make it if they garnish my wages!

I debated whether to blog this or not.  Am I being petty by putting this "out there" for everyone to read, just to get back at him?  Probably.  Am I frustrated beyond belief?  Definitely.  Am I astounded by that man's complete and total self-centered callousness?  Absolutely.  I wanted to be nice to him during the divorce and keep the petty details out of the decree, to set him up with anything he needed to get a place of his own, to make certain this his son didn't lose any respect for his dad. 

Well, that attitude has certainly come back to bite me in the ass.  He's sent me $50 since Christmas and then called me a heartless bitch when I got pissed because he isn't making any payments at all.  He even refused to give the kid $30 for new shoes when he asked him this past week.  He's telling everyone that he misses us both so much, and he's so depressed because, and I quote from his email, "was totally fucked by you last year" so he just hasn't been able to get a job.  Excuse me?  Even our son said I was being too nice to him considering all the crap he's pulled all these years!  You know it's bad when your son tells you to take him to court.

I honestly don't know what I'm going to do.  I'll try to see my lawyer this week, but I have a feeling she's just going to tell me I'm screwed.  I don't know when I've been so scared.  Our lives were finally getting back on track and both of us were happy.  I've always known that man was selfish and jealous, he hated having to put our son's welfare ahead of his own.  But I just didn't want to believe he would take it this far.

I am trying to focus on the positive things in my life.  Nathan is the biggest one, but I also thank the Lord for my friends and family.  My sister, whose love and support I cherish every single day.  Larry, my brother.  My extended family - Joe, Jim, Diane, Erica, Michelle, Kelly, Andrea, Jackie, Stacie, Kathy.  Friends whom I appreciate more than they'll ever know - Cheryl, Jenny (she'll always be Jen to me), Laura, Jenn, Emily, Tyler & Laura, Mark, Kevin, Eun Hee, and so many others.  Forgive me if I didn't include you in the list, but you'll always be in my heart.  And of course, my 3 furry boys, whom I can always count on for a good laugh.

Ok, I promise the next post will be back to my positive, quirky view of life.  And not so far between... probably.  :-)

Perceptions

I understand that we all perceive others in a certain way, often to the extent that we can only interact with someone based on that premise.  I do it.  You do it.  It's normal.  It's also frustrating as hell.  I find that most people perceive me in one of three ways:

"The Middle" - the middle-class, middle-aged, middle-of-the-road, white-bread, politically correct, Barry Manilow singing, straight-laced, wall-flower.

"The Control Freak" - an OCD, bossy, know-it-all, by-the-book, perfectionist, over-achiever bent on world organization.

"The Brat" - a self-centered, un-balanced, sheltered, baby-of-the-family with no verbal filters who will never grow up and never change.

Some of these are true, but most are not. 

I'm most definitely not "white-bread", straight-laced, or politically correct.  Ok, so I may have a couple Barry Manilow CD's hidden away, I also have the soundtrack to "Rocky Horror Picture Show" and a DVD collection that requires a lock and key.

While I am OCD enough to be efficient at my job, I'm not the complete control freak others think I am.  I expect perfection from myself, but only desire to help others in any way I can with information, solutions, adaptability, and a lot of hard work.  My house is never clean or organized.  Rules are made to be bent or broken – if the occasion warrants it.

Baby of the family – yes.  Sheltered – no.  Un-balanced – yet to be decided.  I have no intention of ever growing up, but am constantly striving for personal growth.  It has taken me a lifetime to learn to care for myself, which you may see as self-centered, but I see it as the only way I can be there for you.

I refuse to be pigeon-holed, yet it often seems that everyone around me insists on it.  I have a sense of humor, swear like a logger, have a tattoo, and have been known to "inhale" on occasion.  I listen to loud music, love to dance, own not one but six battery operated "toys", and can't cook worth crap most of the time.  I sleep about 5-6 hours every night because there is too much to do to sleep my life away.  I love motorcycles, and think driving a 5-speed over back roads with the music up and the windows down is really hot.  And if I drop my verbal filters, it isn't because I'm not capable of using them, it's because I will not be strangled by them in my personal life.

Consider these things when next you think of someone in a certain way.  Perceptions are simply that – how YOU perceive ME.  And you have my promise that I will consider my own perceptions of you.

Have I Hit My Limit?

That's a question I've asked myself a few times of late... what's my limit?  How much more can I handle?  At the end of a really hellish week at work, filled with depression, hurt feelings, and frustration; my mother goes to the emergency room twice, then is admitted to the hospital with pneumonia; my debit card is hacked, cancelled, and my checking account cleaned out; and I had yet another disappointing, depressing first date.

It was one of those weeks that can only be summed up by one word - shit.

Mom will be in the hospital for a few days, but my sister is optimistic that they'll be able to clear up the pneumonia and send her home.  Her health is rapidly declining, but she's bounced back before, so we can only pray that she does so again.  I'll be going up to take care of her for a few days in 2 weeks.  My sister is great about keeping me updated on her, just in case I need to head up there quickly.

My debit card was hacked, and the bank cancelled it automatically as soon as they detected it, but my checking out was drained anyway.  It's a weekend, so I can't get ahold of anyone, but I'm confident I'll get the money back at some point.  Unfortunately, it usually takes 60-90 days for resolution, and I don't get paid again until June 1.  My savings account wasn't touched so I do have some "emergency funds" to use.  What really stinks is that I'd saved up 75% of the new washer cost and would have paid it in full when the bill comes in a couple of weeks.  Things are going to be very tight this month for Nathan and I, but we'll survive - we always do.

So, tomorrow starts a new week.  Selling stuff on Craigslist.  Making new cards to sell.  Re-working the budget.  Finding new ways to deal with work stress, if possible, or looking for a different job.  Doing whatever it takes.  Today, I plan on dressing up, closing the current show, then enjoying myself at the cast party afterwards.  Tomorrow will come soon enough.

Have I hit my limit?  No, not yet.  With the support of my sister and my friends, I'll be okay.  Not sure I'll ever date again, but I'll be okay.  Limits that moderate our behavior are good.  Limits that prevent us from growing, learning, or expanding our universe are not.  Weeks such as this force me to see my "limit" as something fluid - something I can push farther away with effort.  I can remind myself that the only person setting these limits is me.