I’m the same. I had cats for decades, and supermarket (and other) plastic bags were great for collecting used cat litter. I collected them all, against the day when the government outlawed them. Well, the government outlawed them, and the cats got old and died, and I’ve still got more than I know what to do with.
Well, I do know what to do with them, and they are handy for a number of things, including plain ol’ shopping at the supermarket. But maybe I’ve got more than I’ll ever need.
This reminds me. A local friend likes to put up pickles, relishes, and so on every year; and she shares them with me. Typically, every Christmas, I’d get a couple of jars of dill pickles, a jar of bread and butter pickles, and a jar of pickled beets. They were great (the dill pickles were the closest to New York deli pickles I’ve ever had), and I enjoyed them. But when the jars were empty, what to do?
Well, I simply returned the rinsed-out jars and lids to my friend, so she could use them for next year’s pickles.
Maybe that’s a solution. Empty your out-of-date pasta sauce jars into the garbage, and donate the jars to a friend who likes canning pickles, etc. Then, you’re recycling them, and maybe, you’ll get some tasty pickles out of the deal.
If so, he’d be moving those jars up the “reduce reuse recycle” hierarchy from “recycle” to the even better “reuse”.
Give @wolfpup’s recent experience, I wouldn’t have risked the toilet either.
IIRC, @wolfpup is in Ukraine right now, which would explain the lack of a garbage disposal in the sink. I would lay money on the toilet pipes being only 2 inches diameter, rather than four like in the US. If so, pouring sauce down the toilet would be a lovely way to keep those plumbers in business.
Prescriptions & The Receptionist
As I have said before, the receptionist at my psychiatrist’s office should be fired. He is surly, rude, unhelpful and keeps interrupting.
I am having trouble getting one of my medications refilled. I tried at least three other medications before I found this one. One of those medications caused constant pain through the entire length of my urinary tract. Others had other problems.
When I called to speak to my psychiatrist, the receptionist was- quite shockingly- prepared. He said that my insurance company no longer covers the medication I have been using. I was trying to say that I did not want to switch medications again. He interrupted by reading me a list of substitute medications that were covered. There were three names. I didn’t catch all three. The medication I had tried and quickly stopped because of a constant pain in my urinary tract was on the list.
I finally was able to speak. I explained that I did not want to switch to another medication. I asked if my psychiatrist could write a letter and get an exception. He said ‘There are no exceptions’. I repeated that I did not want to switch. ‘It will take at least a week.’ I asked what he was talking about. He explained that if my psychiatrist asks for a exception, it will take at least a week. You incompetent waste of semen! You just said there were no exceptions! Now you say there are? By this point I was very nearly yelling at him. I didn’t care. I explained again that I did not want to switch and that my psychiatrist needed to write the letter and get me an exception.
He said okay and have a nice afternoon.
Ass hole.
I recieved a call between my lunch break and my two o’clock break. I was on a call, so I let it go to voice mail. It was an automated call from my Medicare part D (prescription drug) insurance company. The message was useless. It just said to call the number on the back of my member card. To start, there are two phone numbers on the back of my card. Did they mean Customer Service or Coverage Determination? The message gave no indication. I called Customer Service. I wasn’t sure what options from the voice menu to use. I eventually got a human. I had trouble hearing her. English was clearly not her first language. I told her the name of the medication that I needed and that I was having problems getting it approved. She told me what she was going to do. It involved the word formulary. I had no idea what the sentence as a whole meant. I said “What does that mean? I do not understand.” She just repeated the sentence, exactly as she has said it before. I said “What does that mean?” She repeated the sentence again. She was repeating it yet again, when I said “wait”. She did not stop. I said wait again. She just kept talking. I triead again. She just kept talking. I yelled WAIT! I do not know if I was justified in yelling or not. She finally stopped talking. I said that just repeating the same words over and over was not helping me understand. What was going to happen? What did I need to do?
She was going to put in a request for the medication to be approved as an exception. I said okay. She put me on hold. After about 10 minutes, she came back. She said the paperwork to get my prescription coveref had already been submitted and approved. I asked if there was anything else I needed to do. She said I could pick up the medication at my pharmacy.
It has been a rollercoaster of a day.
I’m also having issues with getting a scrip. It’s a generic version of a drug which I can’t afford under its name brand, and the pharmacy and the doctor’s office are going back and forth trying to get insurance approval. It has been about two weeks now.
My rant: I’m sure getting sick of seeing Chip and Joanna Gaines’s names all over the place. They have a home improvement show, a line of home goods at Target, a furniture line at Living Spaces, and now their name is on some kind of upcoming oafish television talent show. I used to watch their original home improvement program, but now I’m sick of them and wish they’d take a hike.
He’s in Canada, actually. Here’s the post that this is a callback to.
Yeah, it sounds like it, from your description. OTOH, IME with rollercoasters, they pretty reliably come to a complete stop in a safe disembarkation point. Eventually.
Here’s hoping you’ll soon be able to disembark your own self, and have enough decompressing time that you can look back on it and reflect on what a ride it was.
ETA: P.S. I’m glad that the exception came through successfully.
Yeah - I remember the sauce incident post. I just thought he and his wife were in Ukraine visiting her family. Or am I thinking of someone else completely.
The plumbers who handled that mess were of Ukrainian origin.
nm. I’ve been day-drinking, and I conflated @wolfpup with @DocCathode.
Regardless, @wolfpup is in Canada, and wouldn’t be responsible for paying for a plumber’s services in a building he doesn’t own.
Yes, I believe that is where the confusion stems from.
The plumbing isn’t Ukrainian, just the plumbers.
I’m obviously conflating him with someone else. I blame the plumbers.
Yes. I originally assumed from their names that they were Russian. Quite the opposite, they’re Ukrainian and were lucky to have been able to make it over here to get away from the war. Other than that I haven’t pried into their background. They actually work as construction contractors and general handymen, but the older brother tells me they are certified plumbers, and at any rate they certainly know what they’re doing.
Both jobs they’ve done for me so far, putting up a downspout that I had neglected and which had detached from the eavestrough and fallen off and doing some related landscaping, and the plumbing repair, they left things better than they had been before they broke.
The fact that there’s two of them makes a lot of things easier. I’m definitely going to use them again – they’re not cheap, but worth every penny. Having access to a skilled handyman is a precious resource in today’s world of greed and incompetence.
Glad to know that they’re worth their price. But I hope you won’t need to use them for a while, and your means of supporting their efforts is restricted to referring friends and neighbors to them.
Yeah, as a Retired Old Fart™ I don’t exactly have vast sums of money to throw around. But, houses being what they are, there are things that need doing and my inability to safely even get up on a ladder limits what I can do myself. Right now for instance I have three wired smoke/CO detectors that need replacing. I have the replacements and they’re electrically compatible with the old ones but the connectors are different and need to be rewired. Normally I could easily do this myself but the ladder thing makes it problematic.
One’s a mummer and one’s a pupper.
I got a notification that a package was delivered today. In the hour between when it was dropped off and when I got home, it disappeared. Some asshole stole my adjustable reading glasses. I’m very annoyed.