Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) Support Group
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I got my wallet stolen at the train station by a pickpocket who went on to try to use my credit cards, so I'm busy canceling them. Trying really hard not to fall into a PTSD thing due to being a victim of a petty crime. Could happen to anyone, right?
Purrrrrsssss
I realized, though, it's the therapy of the thing, actually. I'm BARGAINING with the bank. Aha! That means I'm going through the 5 stages of Kubler Ross grief over wallet loss here. Not to trivialize, since I teach her book in my death and dying classes I teach at the college. But the 5 stages are true in the big thing like end of life loss, and the small things like my stolen wallet loss.
Next, then, will be the depression stage, so I'll be back here for support then, you can be sure. But after that, acceptance, sweet acceptance.
Hopefully with the $200 fraud reimbursement in hand.
Why not? Get this: Because instead of sending me a card with a new number, they sent me just another card with the same number as the stolen card, now canceled. Ummmmmm DUH! Really? Geez. I laughed out loud on the phone at the credit card representative when I talked to them. I couldn't help it.
So I'm managing to laugh at this whole process. Bought a new wallet with a CHAIN on it, though.
I use a pay as you go phone plan and used up a lot of its minutes calling to cancel credit cards and stuff after my wallet was stolen. So I bought a new phone card with 300 more phone minutes today. The pin number on the card didn't work, so I called the phone card representative, too. The first representative I spoke to couldn't fix it, so she connected me to the second one. She couldn't either.
Swear to God, in the technologically most advanced sole superpower of the world, both the credit card and the phone card people were inept on the same day. So after the second representative of the phone card compary said she just couldn't fix it, I hung up and fixed it myself. Caramba.
Believe it or not, though, my visit to the DMV to get a new driver's license to replace the stolen one went fine. Go figure.
I insist on laughing instead of crying. This is just too estupido not to enjoy a good laugh, mis amigos. Plus, I can't let the stress build and trigger my PTSD into some foaming at the mouth episode, you know. Better just to laugh! Ay, chihuahua!
Aw, heck. This is too rich. I'm gonna start a thread on this one just to give everybody else a good chance to laugh.