Level Ground, 33 & 34. Daily Life Headaches.

We have been with this pandemic for so long, that it's taking a back seat in our daily life. We just have to make sure we leave the house with the mask, and then not crowd into places, all while we await the call to get the vaccine. Normality? It's starting to feel like this is all it is, and the past was an illusion.

Daily life also consists of major and minor headaches. The fine which I paid, which someone was still demanding I pay, with interest, seems to have been resolved. I called the Hacienda office in A Coruña back again, close to the deadline. Again, they told me it wasn't in their power to cancel the debt, that that was the town hall's job, and that nothing had been done on their end. Since, when I called, it was close to midday, I went into town with all the papers I had. 

Now, one has to register at the desk in the entry hall before going anywhere, because of Covid. I explained what I wanted, and the clerk told me to go to the tax office, which had relocated to the main town hall building. I went in and found another clerk I had never seen before. I explained the case, and he mumbled, "no comment, no comment", while shaking his head and gesturing to an inside office that was empty at that moment. He muttered something about somebody not doing their job, various times, along with the fact that he wasn't about to comment on that, because then angry people come by to find out what was going on with debts they didn't owe, or receipts they had never received, and told me what to write out on a form to take to the registry department. 

No comment.

I did so, and then took the papers across the hall. The person who took the papers from me began to tell me that the problem now resided with Hacienda. Again. I pointed out that the person I had just spoken with in the tax office said that it was the town hall's problem, which was the exact same thing I was told by the Hacienda office in A Coruña, and that they had to send the order to Hacienda to stop asking me for money I had already paid. I gesticulated to the copy of the bank receipt, which was on the desk. Of course, the person then asked me if I had the original (which I still haven't found). I mentioned the obvious; that if I hadn't had the original, the person wouldn't be staring at the copy. Papers shuffled, stamped, information entered on the computer, and I was supposedly finally freed from a €90 debt I didn't owe. Why didn't anyone do this back in August of last year, when I got the first letter, instead of sending me from one place to another and back, again? I bet the person who doesn't do their job was officially appointed to the office after going through state exams, and now can't be moved without an official investigation into their industry. Some things about permanent bureaucrats in Spain are wrong as hell. 

My internet problem was the next one. One of the local opposition parties, which has, I think, two seats in the town assembly, sent out a request for emails from all those who don't have access to fiber optics internet in the township. I think mine was the first one in. With all the complaints they can gather, they are going to appeal to the Ministry of Industry to get something done about it. Given the revolving doors between ex-ministers and the telecom industry, I don't know if much will be done, but I don't mind being a mosquito biting a giant. I may be brushed off, but I'll still irritate.

The daily problem that still hasn't been solved, however, is my plumbing problem. The house next door where my father lived is now empty, but can be used at a moment's notice. Or, it could, if it didn't have the Victoria Falls in the basement underneath the bathroom every time the water to the house is opened. As it is, our washing machine is in the basement next door, so every time we want to wash a load of clothes, we have to turn on the water, and the pails distributed in the offending area quickly fill. I spoke to our plumber once, back at the beginning of March. He told me he would come by the following week. My husband then spoke to him at the end of March, and he was told that in two or three days, max, they would come by. I saw the plumber at the end of April, and he told me he hadn't forgotten about me, that the next week he would be coming by. At this rate, it'll be fixed faster if I go to plumbing school and then do it myself.

All these things tend to keep thoughts of the pandemic on the second back burner. 

Life continues.