You never gave us your new address, now we will eat your money

Yesterday I called into work to get my schedule since restaurant schedules are only posted a week before (or is that dis-organized, and only at my restaurant?) and since I was on vacation for a whole week, I didn't know if I was supposed to show up or not. Turns out I was, and I did, and then jotted down the entire 5 shifts I am supposed to show up for work this week. 5 shifts is sarcastic because normally I have at least 6 or 7 and although I get tired of rolling silverware, I do not get tired of depositing money in the bank. Because I like to buy things like extra virgin olive oil even if Target only has one measly bottle left. Because I have a light schedule this week, I am at home today trying to get organized. I will pause for a minute to let that sink in. My desk was piled high with "things to get done", a few of those things being changing my address since I moved - 4 months ago! I pawed through each slip of paper or receipt or reminder of "things to get done" until I came to a yellow slip of paper. A yellow slip that I had ripped from an envelope that said, "hey, you still haven't given this stupid company your new address and we're not going to keep forwarding much longer," except, in an organizational flurry, I had only ripped the little slip that said, "forwarding address." That is how organized I am. All I had was my new address staring me in the face, on a yellow piece of paper, reminding me that some company! somewhere! does not know my new address. And now either a magazine, or bank, or better yet my retirement fund, would be cut off to me forever.