Details are important

Somewhat astounded, I do not think I’m writing enough- or perhaps I’m just not writing well enough. Every day I go back and read what I wrote, several times each day actually. Usually, it is the last thing I read before I go to sleep so that I might dream of ways to make the next day better. Each morning I reread the previous day’s work, sometimes several times again. Sometimes first thing in the morning before I’m even out of bed as if some days I have forgotten what I wrote- sometimes a feeling of disbelieve, such as “Did I really write that?”

Most days I’m pretty happy with what I write. One of the two most usual criticisms I give myself is when I short out some of the details.

Like that naked guinea pig. I spent close to five minutes of my time yesterday observing this animal. I have never seen a guinea pig without its fur before. I’ve seen naked cats and find them to be more repelling than attractive. That was also my first thought with this six-inch pig. My second thought was that this pig, in its “uniqueness”, was an expensive little fuck too at $150. Actually a penny less, and with tax, accessories, food much more.

I squatted- well as best I could, I didn’t want to get stuck at the store while admiring a naked mammal. My knees slightly bent, I bent over at the waist more than anything else, and used my cane to support some of the weight of the top of my body. I would have stayed longer if I could have squatted. As it was I talked to him and mostly told him how ugly he was as kindly as I could. At first sight, I thought it was a rat (from ten+ feet away,) and as I came closer he seemed to confuse me until I read the sign.

Just before the sign, I’d asked him out loud “Where is your tail?” Having previously owned a rat farm with nine breeding females and three male studs (and produced 100-150 frozen rat “pinkies” and “fuzzies” to use and sell as snake food,) I knew that sometimes rats lose their tails. One of my favorite rats (what a dude, the oldest of the bunch for a while- I tried to retire him by feeding him to Sly, an eight-foot Red Tail boa, yet he survived 24 hours in the tank, jumping and dodging the serpents attacks,) that ending up living to a long old age for a rat, three years or so.

Before he did end up going from natural causes (and then got buried,) he was in a fight with a younger rat which ended up biting his tail. The wound wasn’t too serious, yet had well broken the skin about halfway down. Over the next few weeks, it became infected and seemed to eat its way deeper into the tough flesh surrounding the long bony tail. Eventually, it just wasn’t improving and had begun to attack the bone I thought and Mike didn’t seem to be feeling too well. After some time considering my options (and spending money on a vet wasn’t one of them,) I decided to amputate just above the wound.

Details are what I think keeps reading interesting- also, it’s the unique part that only I can do- if you read the details backward, all the views lead to my point. That point is me. My second usual complaint about my work is when I skip something completely and then days later decide to bring it up. Makes me feel like I ‘hid’ it the first time, yet it’s just the fact about details, I can’t possibly type everything I see and hear all day long. In between, I hope to find a balance.

Almost two weeks ago the adjuster from Progressive estimated my damage at about $3000 and my car’s value at $7800 implying I would receive the entire amount. He said they would mail a check within three to five days, that was on the tenth. As I still hadn’t seen it all last week, I had started to become concerned.

More so when I checked my USPS “Informed Delivery” site and saw that USPS had scanned an envelope from Progressive on Monday for delivery to me.  However, no mail had been received all week since I emptied the mailbox last week in preparation for receiving the check. I had even spent a day last week sorting the pile of mail, most junk mail, now sometimes filled with important papers from DHS, MI-IRS, Insurance, Doctors, etc…

Yesterday or the day before, I became a bit paranoid. I know the Michigan Reconnect program will pay my tuition, however, that will not pay some of the other fees that are unavoidable. I’ll have to come up with close to $500 probably and I may be currently unable to receive the Pell Grant (due to past performance,) to cover it in the normal way. Although I have that much in my bank right now (just barely,) that is the only money left for food, gas, and anything else I need.

Rechecked the USPS website and plain as day, the envelope from Progressive had been delivered they said on Monday- I remembered one day last week that was windy and I had the windows open and the whole stack of mail blew across the living room. Was the progressive check blown under the table on the opposite side of the room? Nope, I checked. And checked everywhere else too.

And I swept. Moved furniture and swept. The envelope was not on the floor. Could it be upstairs? No, the wind couldn’t have done that. “Progressively” all week long, I became more paranoid. By yesterday, I thought that I had done it. Did I remember that envelope coming on Monday? Maybe I did and I through it away- maybe I thought it was junk from them, I had filled out an auto quote online a month or so ago.

Why would I throw it away without opening it? Why would I be sure it was junk when I was expecting valid mail from them? By the time I wrote last night, I said it- I read it, maybe it was between the lines- without saying it last night. I thought I threw my insurance check in the garbage to sabotage my own plans of moving forward. When I had truly become paranoid about this (notwithstanding the fact of the destroyed college plans, I still needed that money to eat for the next several months!) I really started to look for the check.

I examined the garbage and hand-transferred its contents into a fresh bag. No check. Two more bags in the dumpster, okay, it could be there. The dumpster was emptied on Thursday though- if I had thrown the check away before then, it could be gone. Yes, but if the check was inside when the wind blew, maybe I threw it away after Thursday in which case there could be a $3000 check in my garbage bin.

Yes, apparently, that amount of money is sufficient to cause me to extricate two bags of garbage from the bin and also hand-transfer their contents into fresh bags. No check.

I at least felt better that it wasn’t here, anymore. I figured it would be difficult now, yet I knew the process would start with progressive. I went to my “insurance” mini legal pad, no contact number for them, yet I did have Emily from State Farm noted with her direct extension and the claim number she’d given me. She answered on the first ring or two, listened to my story, then suggested she call her progressive counterpart and get them on the phone.

She did, they came on and I repeated my story. No, not about the garbage. Just that the check had not arrived in ten days. I also did not mention that the USPS site said they had delivered an envelope last Monday.

Quick, almost too easy, the Progressive agent said he could email me a link to receive my payment immediately. Somewhat shocked, I was satisfied and had a few questions before I accepted, including asking him to read back my email address. Glad I did, someone at Progressive had “corrected” my name and email in their records…. “jeremya@gmail.com” is not going to work. Once my data was correct, I let him go.

Ten minutes later, as he said I received an email. I clicked the link and had to verify myself with my DOB, the date of the incident, and the claim number. It failed, and no record was found.

Had to call Progressive again, again quick service. Explained the step I was at and the problem I was having.  As soon as I began to read the claim number, I was told it was invalid: claim numbers do not have letters. I begged to differ with him and told him this claim number allowed Emily to look up everything about my claim.

Oh he said, Emily must work for someone else, Progressive claim numbers do not have letters. Then, having me orally verify everything else that he could on my record, he told me my progressive claim number.

Back to the email, click the link, enter the correct claim number, and choose to receive my prize: direct to debit for a small fee (within 30 minutes,) or direct to a bank account for no fee (two to four days,) and finally, oh finally with that process complete, now just past six months since the date of the incident, I was about to be bestowed with a large enough lump sum to- for this moment in time- save my house and allow me to go to school full time.

I was happy, it was difficult, and obstacles came up- I might have created them, I solved them and I moved on to another day, today.

This morning I checked the mail and received the two items that the USPS website said they delivered last Monday, my physical paper check (now already voided with a stop payment,) and a random bill from my dentist. Both envelopes have some pen writing on them “A-2”, whatever that means to whoever wrote it, so I can recognize these two images precisely. Also, the USPS website reports that no mail was delivered yesterday.

Also, didn’t mention because I’m scared to lose it, I did not injest any nicotine in any way yesterday. None. None. Today is day two with no nicotine. I did smoke, smoked a bunch of pot yesterday after I got home. Is cannabis better than nicotine? Does cannabis cause paranoia? Did my “paranoia” (unwillingness to trust a ten-day missing check that should have arrived in two or three days,) cause me to not be able to cash the now worthless check that I finally hold in my hands now?

Do I get to keep this check and have it direct deposited too? Yes, I do, and I also get to keep the memories of how my time in Jal, New Mexico helped save my house and now send me back to school. If not for this second “incident”, which would not have happened without the first “incident“, so much would be different: nothing in the last week of February 2023 would be the same- or anything else after!

Time to keep going.

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