yesterday was not my day to be a consumer.

first, there was target. my beloved target (motto: walk in here for one item. walk out with $50 worth of merchandise.) the store where there’s probably an aisle with my name on it. someone somewhere heard BC’s pleas to make the C9 running pants and shirts for girls as well as for boys. (she’s told me that she often wears the same outfits as three boys in her class.) they are great buys (compared to underarmor) and especially terrific when girlfriend engages in sports. two days ago, when jools was home with me, we had to run an errand at target (that would be before we went out to the park in the 20+ degree freezing weather and played) and i noticed that there were spring versions of the C9 shirts and pants in the girls department. in colors like pink and purple, even — which, for BC, is a major coup since she really hates trotting around in black and grey (at least one shirt is red). so i guessed at her size and picked up a few things.

only, in the words of junie b, too bad for me. i picked the wrong size. i had to make a return. when i looked at my receipt, though, that ms. target had overcharged me one extra pair of running pants. usually, i check my receipts like mrs. pathmark (mrs. pathmark is what my dad calls any grocery checkout person who checks every single item to make sure every coupon has a corresponding item. clearly, this term predates computerized checkouts.) but with jools in tow, i didn’t even get a chance to look at the receipt. i was lucky i found my keys.

so back i went to make my return. i told the lady that additionally, i was overcharged for an extra pair of pants which i did not buy. she proceeded to call security. (note to self: you really ought to start wearing makeup. you scare people on most days without it.) the burly security woman looked me over, then went into some place some where. i don’t know whether there are tapes of every single transaction made or whether they just want to see whether you’re pissed enough to wait 15-20 minutes to get your money back. but wait i did; and after 20 minutes of wasted time, the burly lady came out, pronounced me honest, and they gave me my money back.

on to sears, where a return went so much better. i never shop at sears (i was returning a lands end item); i think i might have to reconsider.

then, on to shoppers food hellhouse house of babel warehouse. i hate SFW, but BS received some giftcards there from the credit card company as a reward, so off i went to do marketing. other than the fact that the stench of their meat department makes me want to hurl, the place isn’t so bad. in fact, their international food offerings rock, reflecting the incredibly diverse population that hits this store. one pleasant moment was noticing that the middle eastern foods sit peacefully beside the kosher foods. somewhere, someone is smiling. (besides me, i mean.)

but at checkout time, i showed the gift cards to the cashier. how much they for? she asked. the cards don’t have a denomination on them. sorry, i don’t know, i replied. that’s great. just greeeeeaaaat, she replied, passive-aggressive smile gleaming. hello and excuse me, but don’t you use computers that let you know precisely what people have? all the other local stores do. or should i alert stockholders that you’re still in the dark ages of mrs. pathmark? i had to run those things through several times before peace reigneth.

ugh. home at last with just an hour to spare before i had to pick up BC (because wednesday is half-day elementary school day throughout the county. i love having extra time with my girl, but there’s something weird about the kids having a half-day every single blessed week.) i get home to a voicemail from my beloved pal, the nurse whom i adore, the one who gives me my IVIG every four weeks. please call, she says. i need your help.

the poor thing spent the entire morning trying to get the pharmacy to release my gammagard, which i was supposed to have today. it had been authorized by health insurance last week, but somehow, the people who actually release the IVIG hadn’t gotten the news. and hours of trying, in between actually helping patients, was not working. could i help?

so i started to work the phones. the pharma told me they needed prior authorization. Blue Cross told me that i’ve been authorized since last week and that the pharma needs to call, just as they always do. i called the pharma back; the woman told me that she had to ask a certain someone a question and that she was not there at the moment; could she call me back? AAAAAARGH. all she needed to do was call BC/BS and they’d tell her the news. but noooo. by about 3 p.m., you really wanted to keep me away from sharp objects. fun things i had planned to do with BC were shelved as i waited for the phone call. (we ended up making funky rice krispie treats, so all was not lost. but still.)

by 4:30, my favorite nurse told me that she was about to call a VP at the pharma. she called back a few minutes later. my meds would arrive Thursday (today) at noon. so let’s move the appt to friday.

ironically, the woman from the pharma company called about a half hour after my favorite nurse (who reads this blog, incidentally — so hi!!! and thank you!!!) and told me that she had been working on this all afternoon. call your doctor’s office in an hour and see whether there’s any progress. my doctor’s office closed ten minutes ago, i replied. but by that point, i was past caring. i clearly wasn’t getting the gammaguard on thursday.

some days, you shoulda stood in bed.