Monday, I went to the main post office to mail The Pony's forms for reimbursement of his medical bills from the Department Of Labor. I hope he's not in a pickle, sending that form that was improperly and incompletely filled out by his podiatrist office. Like I said, there's not really a way to make them CARE about filling it out right, what with already having been paid in full by The Pony for fixing his broken ankle.
That packet had 19 pages! It really only needed four. A form from The Pony, a form from the podiatrist, a bill, and a receipt. Since the code numbers for treatment, and EIN (Employer Identification Number), and billed amounts appear SOMEWHERE in all those pages that were handed over to The Pony by the podiatrist gals, the information is there. The question is whether a federal employee will take the time to find them, or just toss that paperwork and send a denial letter.
The Cheerful Guy was working the counter at the post office. He asked if I wanted a tracking number. NOT-HEAVEN NO!
"No. Last time, I sent it with a tracking number, and it took A MONTH to get there!"
"Ah. That's interesting."
No. Not interesting. ANNOYING. But I didn't spout my opinion there, because he's a nice dude.
And speaking of unwanted pickles...
Check out the stem on that tiny gherkin! It's almost as much stem as pickle! I hate a pickle stem. Even the little nubs, or even the round indentation where the stem used to be. I cut off that end of the pickle. The Pony finds this amusing.
"Mom. It's only a stem."
The Pony can eat all the stems he wants. I'M not going to start now!
2 comments:
I cut off the stem ends of pickles sometimes, but usually I just hold the stem end and eat from the other end until I just have the stem nub left and then I toss it.
River,
I like my pickles all cleaned up before they journey down those 13 rail-less basement stairs with me. So the stem and nub don't sit there at my elbow, mocking me, for hours in my lair.
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