Setting: Saturday afternoon, Frema-Useless Clutter household. Frema decides to get all ambitious and FINALLY tackle the dreaded private loan consolidation application currently plaguing her prenatal to-do list (for which an update will definitely be provided tomorrow, in case anyone cares).
Frema logs on to Sallie Mae's Web site. Learns her application has been withdrawn due to inactivity. This makes sense, seeing as she hasn't touched the damn thing since September.
Frema: Ah, fuck.
Visits the Mae's Contact Us page to locate the phone number reserved for private loan consolidations. Calls number.
Sallie Mae Fembot: Welcome to Sallie Mae, champion of higher education! To request a new loan, please press one. For information about your account, please press two. To report trouble accessing our Web site or to request a paper application, please press three. Para mas informacion en espanol...
Frema: presses two.
Sallie Mae Fembot: Thank you! Please enter your account number.
Frema: enters account number.
Sallie Mae Fembot: Thank you! For security purposes, please enter your five-digit zip code.
Frema: enters five-digit zip code.
Sallie Mae Fembot: Thank you! One of our representatives will be with you shortly.
A few seconds pass.
Sallie Mae Fembot: I'm sorry, all of our representatives are currently assisting other customers. Please wait on the line and someone will be with you shortly.
A few more seconds pass.
Sallie Mae Fembot: Let Sallie Mae call you back in approximately six. To. Eight. Minutes with our call-back feature. You won't lose your place in line! To learn more about this feature, please press one. For other options, please press two.
Frema: doesn't trust that she won't lose her place in line. Presses two.
Sallie Mae Fembot: To hear a description of a call back, please press one.
Frema: waits to receive other options.
Sallie Mae Fembot: I'm sorry! Your response was invalid. Please try again. To hear a description of a call back, please press one.
Frema: REALLY does not want to hear a description of a service she has no desire to use. Presses zero in an attempt to reach operator.
Sallie Mae Fembot: I'm sorry! Your response was invalid. Please try again. To hear a description of a call back, please press one.
Frema: ...
Sallie Mae Fembot: I'm sorry! You've reached the maximum number of invalid responses. Please try your call again later. Good-bye!
Frema: Noooo!
Dials number again, a little too roughly for her index finger's liking.
Sallie Mae Fembot: Welcome to Sallie Mae, champion of higher education! To request a new loan, please press one. For information about your account, please pr--
Frema: presses two.
Sallie Mae Fembot: Thank you! Please enter your account number.
Frema: enters account number (again).
Sallie Mae Fembot: Thank you! For security purposes, please enter your five-digit zip code.
Frema: enters five-digit zip code (again).
Sallie Mae Fembot: Thank you! One of our representatives will be with you shortly.
A few seconds pass.
Sallie Mae Fembot: I'm sorry, all of our representatives are currently assisting other customers. Please wait on the line and someone will be with you shortly.
A few more seconds pass.
Sallie Mae Fembot: Let Sallie Mae call you back in approximately two. To. Three. Minutes with our call-back feature. You won't lose your place in line! To learn more about this feature, please press one. For other options, please press two.
Frema: is pleased to learn her wait time has been cut in half since her last phone call but still refuses to press one. Does nothing.
Sallie Mae Fembot: I'm sorry! Your response was invalid. Please try again. To learn more about our call-back feature, please press one. For other options, please press two.
Frema: prays for a representative to interrupt her interchange with the automated voice-message system from Hell.
Sallie Mae Fembot: I'm sorry! Your response was invalid. Please try again. To learn more about our call-back feature, please press one. For other options, please press two.
Frema: presses two to stall for time.
Sallie Mae Fembot: Thank you! Let Sallie Mae call you back--without losing your place in line. Sallie Mae--
Frema: zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz
Sallie Mae Fembot: To take advantage of our call-back feature, please press one.
Frema: realizes her only "choice" is to take advantage of the freaking call-back feature if she ever wants to make any headway with this stupid application. Presses one. Provides name and phone number for Fembot, who assures Frema she won't lose her place in line. Adds the finishing touches on her latest entry for Parents.
True to Fembot's word, the phone rings two. To. Three. Minutes later.
Frema: Hello?
Sallie Mae Fembot: Hello! This call is in response to a request from Brea.In. Dun.scom.be. You are the next person in line. Please hold.
Frema: holds.
Sallie Mae Fembot: You are the next person in line. Please hold.
Frema: Yes, I see.
Sallie Mae Fembot: You are the next person in line. Please hold.
Frema: Got it.
Sallie Mae Fembot: You are the next person in line. Please hold.
Frema: Motherfu--
Sallie Mae Actual Real-Live Person, It's About Damn Time: Hello, thank you for calling Sallie Mae, this is Kim, how can I help you?
Frema: Hi, Kim. I tried to finish my private loan consolidation application this morning online and was told my request had been withdrawn. I'd like to get things started again, please.
Kim: Can I have your confirmation number?
Frema: gives confirmation number.
Kim: I'm sorry, I'm going to have to transfer you to our customer relations department. Please stay on the line and I'll transfer you right away.
Frema: No, wait, I--
Sallie Mae Fembot: Welcome to Sallie Mae, champion of higher education! To request a new loan, please press one. For information about your account, please press two. To report trouble accessing our Web site or to request a paper application, please press three. Para mas informacion en espanol...
Frema: bangs head against desk, explodes.
For a while there, it looked like today's was going to be another bullshit entry--Luke and I woke this morning to find our wireless modem had no signal, and after a phone call to AT&T's tech support line, we learned it had indeed met its maker. At first we thought we'd have to wait a few days for a replacement and made plans to crash Luke's work (which is fewer than ten minutes away) and publish obligatory placeholder entries for NaBloPoMo, but since the modem had outlived the initial one-year warranty, we were free to hit to Best Buy and spend ninety dollars on a new one instead. Which we did, which is why I'm able to type at you from the work computer in my living room sated with Oreo pudding and Sara Lee cheesecake instead of an empty office building with no windows and probably no snacks.
Anyway, today was busier than yesterday--there was church to attend, Mexican food to feast on, errands to run, computers to reconfigure, and a little napping on the couch to do in between reading pages from The Big Book of Birth, a book I've really come to enjoy. It was tempting to post another quickie update, but you guys have been very patient and deserve better than the crap I've been slinging lately. It still might be crap, but at least not for a lack of trying.
...And on with the Q&A. Wilddreemer wants to know:
What is one thing you did as a child you hope your child doesn't do?
Take one of my shitty diapers and wipe the contents on the walls. Scoop handfuls of applesauce from the jar and eat it with my bare hands. Wet my pants during fourth grade math. "Accidentally" poke my sister with a nail file. Prank toll-free mental support hotlines under the guise that I was a thirty-something corporate professional whose husband just had been caught in an affair with his administrative assistant. Kiss boyfriends in deserted alleys to avoid getting caught by my parents. Scribble in library books. But the worst thing I ever done--I mixed a pot of fake puke at home, and then I went to this movie theater, hid the puke in my jacket, climbed up to the balcony and then, I made a noise like this: hua-hua-hua-huaaaaaaa--and then I dumped it over the side, all over the people in the audience. And then, all the people started getting sick and throwing up all over each other. I never felt so bad in my entire life.
Wait, that last one was Chunk. My bad.
What is the one thing you are looking forward to doing most after finally having the baby, ie. drinking coffee, touching your toes, shaving your legs?
I've never been fond of coffee, I don't care much for my toes, and with careful (albeit uncomfortable) manuvering, I've been able to maintain normal leg-shaving activity, so those are out. So what I do miss? Sleeping on my back. Grooming my lady parts; hell, being able to see my lady parts without assistance from a mirror. Eating cold lunchmeat without fear of poisoning my unborn child. "Enjoying" my husband. Wearing clothes from New York and Company instead of Motherhood Maternity. I'm so excited about banishing my maternity wardrobe to a tupperware bin in our storage unit until it's time to do this all over again.
As much I as look forward to those things, though, I've surprised myself with the realization that, once this is over, I'll actually miss being pregnant. The first trimester sucked major ass--just thinking about all that morning sickness makes me nauseous--and with the exception of our ultrasound and some moderate fetal activity, the second one wasn't much to write home about, either. But the third trimester.... This is where I feel like I've really come to know my baby, experiencing her sharp jabs and gentle, wave-like rolls, rubbing my hands over the protuding shoulder or elbow or whatever the hell happens to be poking me at the moment. This is where Luke and I can talk to her and she can recognize our voices. This is where I know she's safe all the time, where nobody can get to her without my permission.
This is my first real glimpse at motherhood, and I cannot wait for the rest.