This turned into my reality on Sunday:
At least I skipped the period where it’s dark out when I make my descent into the basement to wrench for the next 8 hours, and dark again when I resurface. I can’t remember the last time my mental health had been this stable throughout winter. I am proud of what I accomplished during those four months: many craft projects, Zwift racing, running, reading, cake decorating, and even a science experiment.
Now it’s time to earn real coin for grander adventures, such as my next overseas cycle tour trip. Destination: Ljubljana, Slovenia via London, UK.
With time, I may even save up enough money to shop at the antique store next door to the bike shop. The other day, I spotted this bronze statuette depicting role playing during the Roman Empire.
“Babe, keep the helmet on, it’s so hot.”
Is this the Roman version of keeping socks on during sex?
Ownership of such a statuette would increase how often I think about the Roman Empire and, in turn, cultivate my masculine side. I was enthralled enough by this discovery to preemptively share the picture with a few friends, some of whom may now feel like they’ve been used for spitballing jokes for blog posts.
Matt had the best response: “Leaf leaves them wanting more, every time.”
Alexa, however, had the most inspiring comment, “I like the fig leaf.”
Oh, really?
I spent $70 on yarn earlier in the week to crochet a legion of Koroks. While I wait for my 15 skeins to ship from Denmark, I figured I’d get some practice in using yarn I already had on hand, hence the leaf of modesty.
The last few items to appear in my physical mailbox have been nothing more than letters demanding dreadful adult responsibilities. One of those came from a financial services company that had been withholding money meant for my RRSP (retirement savings) since 2013. Back then, I had a job with benefits that included making small contributions to my RRSP each pay period. When I quit this job, that money was moved into a placeholder account. I was supposed to transfer the money from this placeholder account into my actual RRSP, but when I tried to call the provided number, the agent refused to take my call on the basis that the person they were speaking with was not me.
As a deaf person, I use a video relay service to place calls. Legally, companies are required to accept those calls, but that doesn’t always happen. I want to say I made several attempts to claim my money, but this was so long ago. Almost as long ago as the Roman Empire. Also, because the money wouldn’t even be made available to me until I reach retirement age, the incentive to jump through all these flaming hoops wasn’t there.
I’m surprised the financial services company was even able to track down my new address.
Anyway, the letter instructed me to contact them at a 1-800 number. I correctly assumed that the agents at this financial institution were now up to speed on the legality of deaf clients placing calls through a video relay interpreting service.
The problem this time, however, was the video relay interpreter. She’d just finished eating a sticky snack, and spent the entirety of the call (20+ minutes!!!) sucking stuck food off her teeth while the agent on the other end asked me baffling questions such as, “What address were you at 13+ years ago?”
I put them on hold while searching Google maps for the exact address of various buildings I’ve lived at, all while keeping the interpreter within view of my screen, trying not to get distracted by the bulge moving around her cheeks as her tongue wormed around the inside of her mouth. This is the deaf equivalent of having to listen to someone making smacking noises while they talk. FOR TWENTY MINUTES. What had she even eaten? Gummy bears rolled up in fruit leather?
Even my internet connection was appalled, and the video started freezing up, forcing me to type out my response in the chat window. Ultimately, I was able to provide the agent with enough information to end the call. And, once the call ended, I typed up a critical email to send to the video relay interpreting services’ customer service department.
Then, I brushed my teeth even though I didn’t need to!
squaremeat.com 