downtime

enforced downtime

 

Tomorrow was loosely planned as the day the key turned in a new-to-me ignition and I headed west up the Princes Highway to Adelaide. 

I’m sure there should be a apostrophe somewhere in that name, but these days I live in Careys Bay so who am I to argue? I still don’t know how many Careys there were. But there was definitely only one Prince of Wales, after whom the highway was named in the 1920s.

So in my loosely planned itinerary, this was the eve of departure. I was though always a little iffy about that date, with a deep suspicion my business transactions would take a little longer than I hoped. In the end it has been more painful than I feared, with, as I noted previously, tears scarcely choked back as I wrestled with faceless voices on a superannuation “help” line. Thanks to the kindness of my daughters, one of whom has even lent me the money to purchase the car, I could leave tomorrow,  but I want to see my battles with officialdom completed first. Then I can pay her back, and hit the road unburdened by debt.

To reiterate, opening (re-opening, sort of – I still had a magic number) a bank account was easy. One one-hour interview and, hours later, it was up and running. Thank you, bank.

Superannuation? Yeah, not so much. I’ve mentioned the delays and howls of rage. That last round was caused when I accidentally mistyped a member number in one of those fatuous rows of soulless boxes on an e-page. There were ten boxes, and I filled all ten. I hadn’t noticed that my number was only nine digits long, accidentally repeated a digit, and Bob wasn’t my uncle.

So eventually, as noted, I finally got through to a nice kiwi person, and all was well. Though it was a little ironic that the personal email that told me that my member number was incorrectly entered contained my member number.

Three days later a further email arrived. I had omitted to despatch page six. Interestingly, the allegedly omitted page was the one on which my membership number was omitted. Clearly Australian Superannuation Inc, Pty, Ltd, Co. or whoever-whatever they are observed the omission by osmosis.

Dearly beloved Member Michael,  we are here to help you. We note on the page that you forgot to send us that you duplicated a number. You are a naughty, naughty boy. Go back three spaces. Again.

Do not pass Go.

Do not collect your superannuation.

“Thank you for being a member.”

Yes, that last line is verbatim. They actually say that every **** time.

So. Another three days. Which takes me past my loosely planned departure date. But I’ve bought supplies for the trip – using my own money for that. And I’ll continue to have some time with Daughter Units and Smaller People (one of whom is just waking up in a nearby bedroom). In three working days no doubt the sort-of-eponymously-named Australian Superannuation mob will email to tell me I’ve missed an apostrophe in my home address.

At which stage I’ll be off to the ombudsman.