drama mama

not last week, but the week BEFORE last week i had a bit of a crisis which is still even now making my life more difficult than it needs to be.

so i have this client, and she is struggling. with the money. and with not having any of it. and right now she is on crutches. we had a session, and i took her a couple of places and at one of those places she got a donation of an air conditioner, which i lifted into my car by myself, narrowly avoiding crushing every bone in my body (but that isn't the crisis). we get back to her apartment, and she wants me to go upstairs and get her shopping cart out of her apartment (i know, everybody has a shopping cart, right? i have five of them in my living room for occasions just such as this one). i leave her in the car, and go get the shopping cart. it takes me quite some time. i come back, load the air conditioner into the shopping cart, send her on her way. then it occurs to me to check my purse to be sure everything that should be in the purse is in the purse. and everything is.

except my wallet. the wallet that has my life in it.

so i call julie.

julie: hello?
morgan: I THINK MY CLIENT JUST STOLE MY WALLET.
julie: oh dear.
morgan: I'M GOING TO HAVE A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN.
julie: let me look around here and make sure you didn't leave it.
***time passes***
julie: i've looked everywhere. it isn't here. i searched the whole house.
morgan: GOING TO KILL MYSELF.

so i call my supervisor, for some advice on how to navigate this somewhat tricky little situation. i go back to my client's apartment, and this time around i'm all, "oh, i think i might have dropped my wallet up here." blah blah blah, she says she hasn't seen it, i narrow my eyes suspiciously and growl, i leave her apartment and commence sobbing while i call both banks, cancel both debit cards, put stop payments on all my checks, file a police report, try to run myself over. i decide to give her one more chance to confess before the swat team arrives to knock down her door. i say: "are you sure you don't have my wallet? please tell me if you do. all the cards are cancelled and there is no cash, so it won't do you any good. give me back my wallet, you thief." (not really that last part, but i might as well have said that).

so back in the car i go, talking to julie on the phone about how dreadfully horrendously terrible it is going to be to replace everything in my wallet and what a tremendous pain in the ass it is going to be until i get my debit cards and checks in the mail (what am i supopsed to do during those 7 business days, bank man? write people i.o.u's? barter? STEAL?), and then julie says: "oh! i found your wallet!"

now clearly, i am overjoyed that my wallet was not stolen. and that conversation when i apologized to my client for practically throwing her in the clink with my own hands, well that conversation was SO much fun. and, since it has been 9 business days and i STILL don't have checks from one of my banks, the bank that has the account that i happen to be using to remodel a house, i'm pretty sure the government is going to investigate me because i keep going to the bank to withdraw very large sums of cash. like large enough to, say, install an hvac. or buy a lot of drugs.

oh, and two of those checks that i put stop payments on? i had already written them. it's pretty likely that i'm going to win some kind of customer appreciation award for awesomeness from the electric company. i hear they LOVE it when people pay their bills with hot checks.