Frustration and Persepective

So I've been having on ongoing situation trying to start a new bank account. The bank we went to first was nice enough, but didn't have an office anywhere close to our house. So we closed that account and decided to switch to a different one.

Should have opened the new account first. It's been more than a week and we're not quite there, although finally getting close. It really doesn't do any good to argue when they say they need this or need that. The individual you're talking to isn't being mean or purposely hindering you. She's got her rules she has to follow and even though you can logically show why something doesn't make sense (try explaining "freelance writer" to a person who sits in a bank office all day long) the person on the other side of the desk has to follow the rules if she wants to keep her job. It's not her fault, and the person whose fault it is isn't there, or on the island or even necessarily in the U.S.

So you keep your sense of humor, keep smiling, keep jumping through hoops and finding more pieces of paper for them as they think to ask for them (and they NEVER tell you everything you need, you have to keep coming back with more.)

It wouldn't be a problem except we're getting close to a cash-flow problem. We've got lots of money (well, maybe not "lots," but enough) but we can't get hold of it yet. Not a disaster – yet – but it's starting to get aggravating.

And then you step out of the bank office and look across the street to the promenade, where the Caribbean surf is gently breaking against the seawall and the sun is shining and everything is so blue – and so many different shades of blue – that it's impossible to capture it all in a single glance.

And you say to yourself, "You know, that's frustrating, but it's really not the end of the world. Things could be a lot worse. At least I'm here.

John B.