Chase, you're wearing me out. And what's with Ethel?

Good morning (yawn).

It's....let's see here......3:30am, and I am just about to pick up the phone for the 4th time in 30 minutes, to try to speak to the correct department at Chase Bank.

Everyone is so horrified by the extended hold times when trying  to reach a bank representative these days. I can tell you what the problem is right here, right now.

Departments. I sit on hold for hours being transferred from one department to the next...and remarkably, no one is able to help me. It is just........breathtaking in it's inefficiency.

But this morning, in 10 minutes, I got the answer I had been waiting 7 months for.

They can't help me.

Refreshing. I don't need to call or write or fax or email anymore. Chase can't help me, and Bank of America can't either, and they're real sorry about that. Mmmm. I'm sure they are.

So I'm sitting here, staring at my split screen, with Chase.com on one side, and Facebook on the other, and it's 3:43am, and Facebook is suggesting that I add Ethel Miller as a friend. Who the fuck is Ethel Miller?

What is going on with the world, that electronic social networks are telling me who I should be friends with, and banks, of which I am a paying (sadly, very highly paying) customer, can't work within the confines of common sense? No wonder the world's finances are going to hell in a handbasket. I'm going to take my pathetic retirement fund and cash out and go make micro-loans in Thailand or something.

Because this? All of THIS? Is bullshit.

I wanna hang out with my kids, snuggle with my husband, and enjoy my dogs and eat well and drink much and love life. Not sit here at 4am trying to get some anonymous call center worker to give a shit about me and my questions. Of which, as we all know, I have many. Not all of which involve the banking industry. But still. They're not helping me and I'm damn sure they aren't helping Ethel, either.