Along with debit card purgatory, to add to my daily blood pressure levels, I am simultaneously stuck in Address Change Hell. We are now entering our fifth month in ACH, with no end in sight without a postal psychic to determine where the disturbance is in the force. I would be going postal if I didn’t have a sense of humor. I laugh in the ear of government employees regularly.
Our lovely daughter married in June, moved to Oklahoma and unbeknownst to any of us inadvertently submitted an address change for our whole family in August. I noticed our mail in the box was slim, but that happens sometimes, like not at election time.
My husband, Mr. Wallet, was awaiting several checks to arrive… which were not arriving. He called his clients and indeed checks HAD been mailed to us, not with tongue-in-cheek “check is in the mail” status. Real checks. Real stamps. Real mail. MIA.
The mystery was solved in September when AFHE (Arizona Families for Home Education, where Rick and I serve on the board) called to say that our quarterly magazine had been returned to them with an Oklahoma forwarding address. Ironically, it was the issue where our darling Colombia Princess was smiling on the cover. Of course it was.
I called USPS and discovered that corrections like this can only be made in a brick and mortar Post Office. Field trip! At the government establishment, I filled out the correct slips and thought that I had outsmarted the system. Au contraire, as I am still realizing… five months later.
Everybody and their mother and second cousin whom you have ever done business with somehow has access to the change of address data base and the domino effect began… In October we started receiving notices that our payments were late on several mailed bills… that we never received.
About that time our son was booking airline tickets and the system wouldn’t let him because his address on his debit card was incorrect…. which means the bank changed our address too. A quick call to the bank got the address changed back to Phoenix. Whew.
The hospital even called to verify our address. Think we visit there too regularly???
My sister called to inquire of my enjoyment level from the HGTV magazine subscription she sent me…. uh…. what subscription? She called the magazine and finagled another free six months for me… but I have yet to see the magazine. Thanks for trying, Christy. I can stand in Walmart and read it until mine actually comes.
Stay tuned… there’s more to this story… of course there is.