Mostly my weekends are uneventful. Get up, walk the dogs, do a workout, cook something, maybe watch a bit of TV, rinse and repeat. Not this weekend.
I made the mistake of going into an actual Optus shop to check on whether my Apple Watch had finished its contract. Optus has a history of charging me for services I'm not using, and devices I paid off years ago, but it's still better than Telstra, so I just like to keep an eye on them.
Big mistake.
All I needed to do was to check the finishing date of this contract. An hour later I staggered out of the store after falling into the administrative mangler and getting chewed to pieces. It seems that sometime after they had their massive ransomware attack, they changed their back-end systems over to something more secure. Fair enough. But transferring the metadata was beyond them. They had put my company name into the account holder’s name and because my driver’s licence, which was the only ID I was carrying at the time, was not in my company name, they wouldn't let me access the account. They were very apologetic about it. But they just weren't giving it up. That took forever to resolve, and when it had, turned out they'd lost my phone. Like, seriously, it was gone.
One of the staffers had taken it into a backroom with her while she was doing something else. Fuck knows what happened to it while it was back there. Time to change all of my passwords again.
So that was an afternoon shot to hell.
The following day? I had to climb down into a pit under our house and dig out a decaying possum that had crawled in there and died.
You don't need the details of that nightmare fuel.
And that was my weekend.
And yet who wouldn't choose possum retrieval as the more preferable of the two activities?
Dead possum, Optus shop. I have never seen the word revenge written as clearly.