The last couple of days have been grating. I feel like I want to find a brick wall, stand about 20 feet back, bend over, and run full-tilt into the thing. The headache from that has to hurt less than the one I'm getting from DD's collegiate application and registration process. The FAFSA was bad enough. DD lives back home in MI with my Mom, who supports her and claims her on her tax return. Hubby and I live in MO, soon to be AR. There are about 850 miles between us. And yet, the FAFSA had to be filled out with OUR financial information because we aren't dead. Even though we aren't the ones taking care of her, DD had to use our financial information because we're still alive. This was frustrating enough.
On the other hand, the college is worse. They haven't gotten a whole lot of things done right from the start, and the last few weeks have been worse. We finally got all their required financial paperwork to them, including signed and dated copies of our tax returns for last year and our W2s. Then yesterday, Mom took DD to the campus to register for classes. Long story short, registration is predicated upon my and hubby getting ahold of the IRS and having a copy of the transcript of last year's tax return sent to the college somehow, prior to the first of August.
I tried calling the IRS yesterday and spent around half an hour on hold waiting to speak to someone in individual transcripts. I was sitting in my car, in 100+ degree temps, in the shade of the little park in C- on the way home from the trailer. (Mom called while I was driving to tell me what was needed, but I had to call her back when I could get off the road safely.) I was hot, tired after a long day at work and some work at the trailer, and wanted to get here to a hot shower. I gave up.
Tried again today after I got to the trailer, and while on hold, did a lot of minor cleanup. An HOUR of being on hold, that is. But the gal I talked to was incredibly nice, and apparently, a lot of colleges are pulling this "we need the transcript" thing now. I'm not upset with the IRS, really. It's not their fault that we needed this and they're apparently incredibly busy. I'm upset with the college. They've known for MONTHS that their little rule change would take effect July 1st, and that DD wouldn't be registering till after due to being an incoming freshman, and they could have told us three months ago we'd need that piece of paper. Heck, three WEEKS ago when they wanted the tax returns would have been good! Now we'll be lucky to get the thing in time to find a fax machine to get it faxed up to Mom to take to the college before their deadline, so DD doesn't have to RE-register for all her classes.
So I haven't gotten a lot done other than to block off the floor vents in the front bedroom and the kitchen. Apparently, a possum or raccoon has found that the ducts aren't hooked up all the way, and found it's way into them. And on top of that, whatever it is, is small enough to fit through the hole in the floor that the vents sit in, and strong enough to push up heavy metal grilles that are rusted stuck to the floors, and get them out of the way. It also climbs, because it climbed up onto my newly cleaned countertops, left footprints all over the place, and then took a dump into one of my glass baking pans! I cannot WAIT to move, the cats (and eventually a dog or two) are going to have LOTS of fun little playmates! (she said with an extremely sarcastic tone)
Though calling my Mom after talking to the IRS today did give her a lift. It's been hot up there, too, and just about as dry, and she doesn't do well in this kind of heat. She's 64 and it just hits her so hard. I love her dearly, so you can imagine our Sunday phone calls are as important to her as they are to me, especially with DD grown up and going on off on her own. Mom doesn't get out much anymore, and so connecting with her on a regular basis helps her to stay positive about things going on. She likes hearing what's going on as much as y'all do, Gentle Readers. But the lift was more than just talking midweek, unusual for us. It was me sitting in what is going to be my new living room, telling her about the whichever pooping in my baking dish, and the mouse in the breaker box, and how far we've come the last few days in clearing up and getting ready for the last stages of The Big Move.
Speaking of which, this weekend, we are certain will be the weekend we FINALLY get the blasted beds moved up there! Q's been told we have to get them out this weekend, as the complex's owner wants to get all the old furniture out of here and get new into all the units. (All come furnished with all bills included - it's hard to beat for cheapish living when you don't have a lot and only one income. It worked for us for a long time, but with both of us working, we need to be closer to both our jobs, and that means this move HAS to happen.) Anyhow, the manager told Q today that we need to get the beds out of here, and we have no idea what else in the way of "old furniture" that the manager will let us have. We shall see. For now, it's off to bed. I've got a long day planned for tomorrow again, and I need my rest to get everything accomplished.
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