I might be a little bit cranky

The business of being alive takes a great deal of time and some days, not all day, but some days, the business of being alive makes me cranky and I want to head into the wilderness and live in a tent.
Let me explain.
My credit card was hacked last month and so the bank cancelled my card, without letting me know, and issued a new one that took 10 days to reach me.
Since I had several automatic payments set on that particular credit card that was hacked, I went online and immediately changed all the automatic payments to a different credit card so that payment was not interrupted. Or so I thought.
Long story short, not all the accounts were updated in time and I had to wait on hold last week for more than 20 minutes, listening to each particular brand of advertising droning on in my ear, to ensure my bills were being paid.
And each person I spoke to seemed more than disinterested in my plight. Perhaps they had a hectic Christmas and were too tired to care. I even used the words, “I’m sorry to bother you” and still the robotic voice asked, “What is your problem?”
I think I have the problem solved now until the next issue arises.
I am not a fan of banks and I know I have ranted about my dislike of them in the past–and I won’t serve up another dish of that. But they treat our money as if it belongs to them and they merely are allowing us to play with our own money.
I stood in line at the bank for some time to figure out why my credit card wouldn’t work when they had cancelled it. Then the teller played solitaire for 28 minutes while she waited on hold to speak to the VISA centre.
I thought she might have had a direct line and she said it was more direct than the line I would have called, but I stood and she played solitaire until someone told her my card had been cancelled.
These are First World problems, I realize, and my life wasn’t in danger. My home hasn’t been destroyed because my credit card was inviting to a thief, a professional hacker, who I would tell, if I could, to try getting a legitimate job and leave innocent folks alone.
I’m warm and comfortable while I wait on the phone to straighten things out, so perhaps I shouldn’t even be commenting on my very insignificant problems. But I think of those in compromised circumstances, who haven’t the means or the health or the ability to tend to the business of being alive and sometimes, probably more often than not, these people slip through the cracks.
I’ll shake off my cranky mood in due course. I won’t start out my conversations as I have the last three with words of warning: “I’m going to try to remain calm but I can’t promise anything.”
I did stay relatively calm, as it turns out. I didn’t shout at all, which I take pride in. In the past that wasn’t always the case. I have mellowed.
I don’t do very much shopping online but I made a promise to myself, while I was on hold, that I would begin 2019 by extending my business to real people. I stood in line at the post office a week or so before Christmas and piled high behind the clerk were boxes and boxes from Amazon. And I have to say, the sight of that made me feel slightly ill.
The business of being alive can be a headache at times, but I think it can be reduced by sharing our hard-earned dollars with real people in our community who are trying to earn those same hard-earned dollars.
I think this realization is a happy by-product of having my credit card hacked and I am no longer cranky.
wendistewart@live.ca