Sallie Fucking Mae

I hate these fuckers. I haven't gotten any information from them -- no bills, no updates, no tax forms, no nothing -- for about six years because they make it so fucking hard to change your address. Instead of all the old-fashioned ways of verifying your identity (date of birth, mother's maiden name, etc.) they want your old address, your old email address, your old zip code, your old phone number.

Perhaps this would be less problematic if I had changed these things immediately upon leaving my husband, but there really seemed to be no point considering that Sallie Mae took my payments automatically out of my bank account. Without a sense of urgency, I procrastinated on it until I no longer had my old address or phone number on the tip of my tongue (seriously, I can barely remember how old I am or my current phone number, let alone all of the numbers associated with a place I lived six months, a year, or six years ago). Why would I remember one of six email addresses I had with aol eight years ago??? Seriously fuckers . . . what a ludicrous idiotic method of verifying someone's identity. It's tragic.

Finally this poor Indian s.o.b. on the phone just went ahead and updated my information. Those poor poor saps. Am I the only one with these problems? I told him I knew it wasn't his fault, but that Sallie Mae is really really really really stupid. If my old address, my old email, or my old phone number still meant anything to me I wouldn't need to change all of that information. Jesus H.

Wet Sleeves

Oh my god it drives me nuts when the cuff of my shirt's long sleeve gets wet. Ewwwwww -- that clammy damp cloth clinging to my wrist drives me totally insane.

This happens to me most often when I fill my hot water bottle (for my feet because I hate it when they are cold) and some of it dribbles onto my filling-arm. Gahhhhhhh!!