Not So Disgruntled

I have spent the past few moments chatting with Direct TV's automated customer service representative. . . we'll call him/her ACSR.
If you know me at all, might know that the worst, ugliest part of myself tends to come out in two places . . . my marriage . . . well, that is pretty normal and even has the potential for redemption and healing and growth . . . and when I am on the phone with a customer service representative.
It's ugly.
But it's my truth.

My main problem with customer service is that I am calling because I don't know something.
I have a question.
I am confused.
You have to give them all sorts of information just to get going.
Then you have to explain to them the thing that you don't understand to begin with.
If I don't get it, I sure can't explain it to you.

Moral of the story?
I sound like an idiot.
And customer services representatives don't really like talking to idiots.
Do I blame them?
No.
But it doesn't make it any easier.
So they ask me to explain my problem and I sound stupid.
Then they treat me like I am stupid.
Then I treat them like poop.
And it goes on and on.

The automated system normally hacks me off even more.
I will almost always just start pressing "0" over and over until I am talking to a real person.
Because when you are living in my mind, you typically make things much more confusing and difficult than they really are . . . and let's be honest, Mr. ACSR, I am much much too complicated and high-maintainance for you.
You have nothing to offer a confused, learning-disabled-ish girl like me.

But today it was nice.
Automated Customer Service Representative (ACSR):
"What is the home number this account is attached to?"
ME: "Gosh, I don't know." I gave them herb's cell phone number while frantically looking for our number. We never use it!
ACSR: Repeats back the cell number. Just giving me enough time to find the real number. "Is this correct?"
ME: "NO!"
ACSR: "Please give me your correct number so I may further assist you."

Honestly, for a split second, I felt like an idiot. I felt like somehow the ACSR has the ability to pass judgment on me and determine I am a huge moron.
But the beauty of it is . . . he/she does not.
Nope!
Not even a single little bit!
It was a good customer service representative day for me!

And let's talk about this "bundle" chananagain that Qwest is trying to pull.
I called Qwest and paired down our phone line from $34 to $11.50 a month.
Bare bones, people.
That is all this girl needs!

Then I called back to discuss bundling (it just seemed like a good idea to keep it separate).
Turns out that if and only if I go back to my $34 home line package can I get a bundling deal.
Then I can save $5 a month.
Nope.
Once I hike my monthly phone package up I can bundle my direct TV into the whole deal and save another $5.

Let me think about this.
Nope.
I am currently saving over $20 and I only have the services I really need.

Did you know that in Colorado it is only $6.50/month for a basic, bare bones phone line!?!?!?
It is $15 in most other states!
I added the $5 line backer and called it a day!

AND I have even convinced herb to at least THINK about pairing down our Direct TV package.
If we watch TV in one room (instead of three),
and cut out one of the cable packages,
we can save $23 MORE each month!!!

And if we go down to a more basic channel package, the possibilities of savings - ENDLESS!
Well, not really endless, but at least another $15.

It has so little to do with the actual savings.
And if we don't do it, I have assured herb that our relationship will remain fully in-tact.
But I would love it!
I know $20 here and there adds but, but it is not a huge deal for us right now without kids, etc.

The huge deal, is this:
I really like simplifying.
I was in the middle of a total re-simplification makeover when I met Herb.
And then I realized how much I like the luxuries of cable and Ti-Vo and all of it.
So simplification took a hiatus.

I love Ti-Vo, but it is not necessary.
It doesn’t' make me any happier.
Truly.

So here we are.
Simplifying as we go.
No big deal.
But a lot of fun.

Next stop . . . cell phone package!!!
YES!

In other news . . .
Our date night was fantastic!
We are getting to a point where we just really like spending time together.
Sounds weird since we are married.
And newlyweds, at that.
But let's be real,
in our case, after we said I do . . . we said . . . I do WHHHHAAAAT??????
and that lasted about a year and three or four months.

But in the last 8 weeks or so, we have turned a big corner.
The love thing was never a question.
The commitment thing was solid.
BUT NOW . . .
We like each other again!

It is fantastic!

So, a hot dog and a silly movie was so much fun!
At the end of the day, we are just a couple of cheap dates. Seriously, as much as we LOVE eating at "gourmet bistros" and staying at creative, plush places on vacation . . . it really doesn't take much!

Cardboard Girl

she is a prisoner
in a cage whose door has no latch or lock
held captive by words like "then" and "should" and "impossible"
she carries a pine tree shaped car deotorizer in the back pocket of her GAP jeans
and pulls it out to impress her cell mates with stories of her adventures in the backcountry
adventures that she weaves as she goes along
sniffing the cardboard cutout
when she forgets what might come next
she has only ever seen photos of trees
because nothing real grows in her cell
except her belly's self-indulgent buldge
rope swings and tree climbing contests frighten her
she is fearful of splinters and sap stains

Maybe Not

My friend Libby has decided to take a ride on the Change Train this summer. Her Change Train is on a non-stop route; destination unknown. The conductor is a scary, tatoo clad personal trainer. To hear her describe this vehicle makes me think of the scary boat ride on Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I always had to close my eyes during that part of the movie. And if the Change Train at all resembles the boat, then my response is the same. I don't mind adventure. Nor do I resist new things (with the exception of course, of sushi. and now that i have mentioned sushi, i fear that any comments i receive will be about how i am missing out on God's favorite food. let's try to stay focused, people!).

But real change. The kind that causes you to forgive, let go, make new habits, believe in God at a new level . . . you will always find me covering my eyes and rocking back and forth at the mere suggestion. And with the exception of the promise of "ridiculous fun" and viewings of "Sex and the City" reruns on DVD, I want nothing to do with Libby's change train.

The funny thing is that I have spent my whole life held captive by the belief that I need to change. I want to change. Sometimes I am so immersed in self-disgust that all I want to do is change. I have spent hours dissecting myself with the hope of finding the cancer that has caused such disdain for myself. But I can't find it. Maybe my biggest problem is that I won't accept that there is a blood coursing through my spiritual veins that ripped the cancer from me years ago. Maybe the root of my sickness is my obsession with needing to be broken.