Head has hurt for 3 days for unknown reason. Just when I move it around, though. So if keep it facing forward and rotate my body on its axis, in cooperation with my peripheral vision I can get around to seeing most everything around me pretty well. It makes me think, for no particular reason, of the brain in Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles named Crain who talked like Vincent Price and lived in the abdomen of that robot or something. Ow, headache.
For once, I actually have a story for this blog. I opened a Citibank account here because, even though they're building Bank of Americas on the underside of every tree branch in Alpharetta, there are none to be found on the South Side of Chicago, so I decided to skip the charges on ATM withdrawals and just open a local account. But wait, there's more to the story than just my fiscal responsibility. They were supposed to send me my permanent ATM card in January, but it never came, and I had to call and get it delivered to me only about two weeks ago, like 2 months after I opened the account. So I haven't touched a cent in the account since I got back at the beginning of the quarter. Nonetheless, I get a letter last week informing me that my account has been overdrawn. Peachy. So I look at my account information online, and I see all these purchases and withdrawals I hadn't made that have put my account $200 in the negative. So I call Citibank and tell them hey, these aren't mine, and I spend an hour on the phone with them while they act very suspicious and go through each purchase with me, and they tell me they'll start an investigation immediately. An investigation, whoa. I start to get nervous afterwards that maybe I made a mistake and those withdrawals are really mine, because what would if they were? So I go online and look up the address information for all the suspect purchases because they give little cryptic snippets of address and business name like "47 Western" or "Stoney Express" or "F&G Chicago." So using Google and MapQuest, I did some detective work. Only I imagined it was more like I was Johnny Quest riding through cyberspace on my CGI motorcycle, speeding towards my identity thief. So I finally found these places, and they're all over the southwest side, one's 30 blocks south of here, one's an oil lube place close to here, and the others are various Citgos and grocery stores way out west by the United Center. In other words, places I've never been before. So I'm definitely a victim of identity theft. I assume they got a hold of the card when it was lost in the mail, and the only way I can think that they'd have gotten my PIN number is a call from Citibank I got in mid-January to verify my personal info that might not have actually been from Citibank.
All that could've certainly been condensed into just a few sentences. The bottom line is, my life has gotten a whole lot more exciting in the past week, and I feel very adult having handled it all by myself. Unfortunately, I have no money to speak of and I just spent the last of it on a ridiculous $40 Strokes ticket. I'm only going to get my first paycheck at the end of this week, a total of, ahem, 6 weeks of working at the Press. But man... what a paycheck it'll be.
For once, I actually have a story for this blog. I opened a Citibank account here because, even though they're building Bank of Americas on the underside of every tree branch in Alpharetta, there are none to be found on the South Side of Chicago, so I decided to skip the charges on ATM withdrawals and just open a local account. But wait, there's more to the story than just my fiscal responsibility. They were supposed to send me my permanent ATM card in January, but it never came, and I had to call and get it delivered to me only about two weeks ago, like 2 months after I opened the account. So I haven't touched a cent in the account since I got back at the beginning of the quarter. Nonetheless, I get a letter last week informing me that my account has been overdrawn. Peachy. So I look at my account information online, and I see all these purchases and withdrawals I hadn't made that have put my account $200 in the negative. So I call Citibank and tell them hey, these aren't mine, and I spend an hour on the phone with them while they act very suspicious and go through each purchase with me, and they tell me they'll start an investigation immediately. An investigation, whoa. I start to get nervous afterwards that maybe I made a mistake and those withdrawals are really mine, because what would if they were? So I go online and look up the address information for all the suspect purchases because they give little cryptic snippets of address and business name like "47 Western" or "Stoney Express" or "F&G Chicago." So using Google and MapQuest, I did some detective work. Only I imagined it was more like I was Johnny Quest riding through cyberspace on my CGI motorcycle, speeding towards my identity thief. So I finally found these places, and they're all over the southwest side, one's 30 blocks south of here, one's an oil lube place close to here, and the others are various Citgos and grocery stores way out west by the United Center. In other words, places I've never been before. So I'm definitely a victim of identity theft. I assume they got a hold of the card when it was lost in the mail, and the only way I can think that they'd have gotten my PIN number is a call from Citibank I got in mid-January to verify my personal info that might not have actually been from Citibank.
All that could've certainly been condensed into just a few sentences. The bottom line is, my life has gotten a whole lot more exciting in the past week, and I feel very adult having handled it all by myself. Unfortunately, I have no money to speak of and I just spent the last of it on a ridiculous $40 Strokes ticket. I'm only going to get my first paycheck at the end of this week, a total of, ahem, 6 weeks of working at the Press. But man... what a paycheck it'll be.
0 Comments:
Post a Comment
<< Home