Desk Day

I'm even physically at my desk (one we came to through my parents, and which is a piece of furniture that we love), for a change--usually I do any bookkeeping/computer work/phone calls sitting cross-legged on the couch, where I'm most comfortable. Today I thought I'd mix things up and see if I wasn't more productive, and less inclined to stray from my intended tasks, if I were sitting in a hard chair at a real desk.

You can see how well that's going.

Actually, though, I have gotten quite a bit done today. First on the list was taking care of a $118 credit card bill I didn't remember charging. Closer inspection revealed that the two charges in question were a $39 annual fee for the credit card itself (which, in fairness, was disclosed when I signed up for the card), and a $79 fee for Amazon Prime.

I very vaguely remembered something about signing Matt up for a free trial of Amazon Prime, and a little digging revealed that I had done so in March, for a 3-month free trial, which then expired in June. They then "conveniently" charged our card to keep the service going. Which, again, I had known they would do, and had just been on the fence about whether to cancel it, and had a little lazy about remembering when. Amazon Prime is a service I really like and have used before, but as we sat and thought about it, Matt and I just couldn't see that in the next year, we would need $79 worth of urgent shipping. Plain old super-saver shipping will have to be good enough for us. We also found from experience what Amazon must know to begin with: having the free 2-day shipping is an enticement to buy things you might not otherwise, and that's something we really don't need. Fortunately, reading the fine print on our account details revealed that one can "cancel at anytime for a full refund, provided nobody has used your special shipping privileges." Done! $79 back in the account.

As for the annual fee, several sources on the internet reported that while companies will often waive a late fee or overdraft charge, they generally won't remove an annual fee. Well, I thought, you can always try, right? So I called Barclay, armed with the spiel that I enjoyed their card and their customer service, but that I would have to switch to another card if I couldn't get rid of this annual fee. The first person I talked to was very nice, but said I didn't "qualify" to have my fee waived. I asked whether there was anybody else I could talk to, and she transferred me right over to someone else, who promptly told me that she would refund the charge and cancel it for the future of my account, so I could "keep the card and continue to accrue benefits." Well, okay! So for all you other Googlers out there: A credit card company may reverse your annual fee. Just ask. A couple of times. Not only did I eradicate the entire credit card bill in a matter of 15 minutes, I theoretically saved myself an additional $39 a year from here on out. (But, I was honestly prepared to cancel the card if they wouldn't waive the fee. It earns miles on AirTran, which is a good airline but it doesn't fly much to anywhere we go regularly, like Cedar Rapids or Madison. We have used it to fly to other places, though.)

My next phase of business has been decidedly less satisfying and involves wading through the mountains of registration, insurance, medical history, and financial information needed to register myself for Shenandoah. They sent me a packet last month that needs to be returned by August, and so far I've come up with no fewer than ten questions that the packet raises but doesn't answer (questions like: it says I need to register--how, and for what?). I need to get in touch with the various hospitals I've worked at and schools I've attended to try to piece together my immunization history. And I need to send signed copies of my tax returns--hahaha, that should be simple enough!

Also on the docket: make an ophthalmologist appointment for Matt (done), send some mail(done), and back up our pictures (no small task, as you can imagine; therefore, merely in progress) to Picasa Web Albums in preparation to clean-install Windows on my computer--which is irritatingly slow and prone to freezing, despite its being new less than a year ago. Its speakers also seem to be blown, which, note to self, I should address with Dell before said year has elapsed.

Unfortunately, to borrow a line from Garrison Keillor's Wobegone Boy (which we downloaded from Audible after yet another accidentally-elapsed free trial, which we then promptly cancelled; note to self, must get better about that or else stop signing up for free trials; though honestly, I would pay to hear him read me the phone book, I really would): I would rather sleep next to a dead person than talk to Dell customer service on the phone. (He just says the part about sleeping next to a dead person; not the part about Dell.) It is the worst, and I repeat, THE WORST customer service I've ever experienced. Just don't get me started on that, okay?

Otherwise...all is very well here. I'm watching what I think are probably the two happiest cats in the world in the midst of a three-hour nap, so far, which is showing no signs of letting up anytime soon. In other news, if you can call it that, we've decided to stop watching 24 because we each feel that it has become less entertaining than it is just needlessly suspenseful, and was literally giving us trouble sleeping at night. We rent movies and TV shows to relax (hello, Cosby Show!), not to feel stressed out, and that is what it was doing to us.

With regard to movie watching etc, we've also decided to limit it just to the weekends. We've noticed our evenings feel shorter in front of the television than they do when we fill them with walks or books or cooking or just talking. (As Matt says, "It's fun just to sit around and love each other." Awww. Where did I get this guy?!) Other pleasures we've decided to relegate to the weekends: wine, espresso, and (for me) hot chocolate. All things we love, and reserving them for the weekends somehow seems to make them, and the weekends, feel all the more special than if we trotted them out every day. It builds a little anticipation, which is always a nice thing. And now that I sound like an advocate for abstinence-only sex education, I guess I'll sign off for now.