The next crisis of Home Moanership has arrived, or not. Okay, it isn’t a crisis so much as an act of forgetfulness on my part. For the past three weeks I have diligently changed my address with all of my accounts. My credit cards, my bank, MyPay military retirement, MyVRS state retirement, Medicare, Social Security, Amazon, Walmart, Microsoft, yada-yada-yada. Who did I forget? The United States Postal Service. They do let one change one’s address online (for a $1.10 fee), so I just did. There is very little I do via snail-mail, but one thing is tax stuff. It’s possible some of my 1099s were sent to the wrong address, so when I click “Publish,” I’m going to dress, drive there, and check the mailbox.
No, I am not going to drive to the old address. It seems the dotter is once again using my car to galivant with her boyfriend. She left me her VW Routan and a key (a defective key that makes the rear door swing up randomly) but I don't want to drive that thing.
No. I'm going to drive that thing. I need groceries, too. I'll try wrapping tinfoil around the key to keep it from opening the doors.
Maybe this falls under Car Moanership? No, that doesn't sound right.
The dotter came home and I went out in my car. There were tax forms from VRS (Virginia Retirement System) and a science kit for the youngest grandkinder in the mailbox.