The week started off with its share of problems. My sister’s stimulus payment came in the form of a debit card, which is hilarious because she is in no position to shop. I took the debit card to my bank, and they would not let me deposit it into my account.
Sis has no bank account. I do all of her bills, and Social Security has me as her POA and deposits her check into my bank account. But the POA form from Iowa held no sway with Bank of the West.
The next day I had my hair colored by sneaking in the back door of my hair salon. I’ve done this before, but this time my hairdresser’s mask kept sliding off her nose – too big. Then my phone died, and I borrowed my neighbor’s phone for an hour. Two no-no’s during a pandemic.
Wednesday was a phone-call marathon while my son sat by patiently. It took five hours to get a free replacement phone with Verizon’s extended warranty. I swear they make it hard so that people will give up.
Thursday turned out to be my lucky day. Where could I spend $600 in one shot? Costco!
I got there in time for the old-people hour at 8:00 a.m., bought tons of supplies for Sis, thank you socks and cookies for my son, flowers for Sis, and some groceries. I put her debit card into the machine, typed in the pin, and then . . .
The clerk looked at me. Uh-oh.
“You forgot to hit enter,” he said.
Woo hoo! Not $600, but I spent half of the stimulus card.
Then a girlfriend offered chocolate cake. Just come to the art gallery where she was working. I had half a dozen errands, including sock/cookie delivery to my son ten miles up the freeway.
Long story short, I didn’t get to the art gallery in time. So, she delivered it!
I was biting into the chocolate cake when I realized I needed to drop off the Costo flowers to my sis.
It was getting late, already after three o’clock.
When I got there, the owners were there, the husband mowing, and the wife overseeing the vaccinations by CVS.
My chiropractor had told me on Tuesday that the vaccines come in boxes of ten and that if they aren’t all used up the end of the day, they get thrown out.
I rang the bell. The owner answered. I gave her the vase of flowers and bag of supplies. She asked me if I’d had the vaccine.
“No. Do you have one for me?” I asked.
“Wait here,” she said, closing the door.
I sat on a wooden bench for a few minutes. She came back out and asked if I had my medical info with me.
“Always,” I said, patting my cross-body purse.
“Fill this out,” she said.
Then she disappeared again.
I waited ten more minutes, and she came back out and handed me a second form.
Five residents, two care givers — I ended up getting one of those vaccines that would’ve been tossed.
Hurray! Costco on Sis’s stimulus funds, hand-delivered chocolate cake, and a rare chance, even if I am in the age-appropriate group, to get vaccinated in a state with 40 million people.
There aren’t enough vaccine doses right now for everyone. It is stressful.
But I got mine — woohoo!