On Thursday night I went through the small pile of stuff from the insurance people. Most of them were bills for the one amount, the last couple with increasingly desperate and/or threatening sounding cover letters. The last one was for $110, and claimed that debt recovery procedures were about to commence. I finally paid their damn $110, and thought no more about it until I got home tonight and found another demand for money.
Okay I know it’s my own fault for not getting organised earlier and paying them their money, but it’s pretty funny really… an insurance company going to such lengths for the premium. Though I suppose it’s a little different from your average car or house insurance where they can just refuse to pay a claim if you haven’t paid. Being WorkCover there’s probably legal requirements that cover be in place.
Meanwhile, it’sGrand Prix time again, and from where I work on the 28th floor of a dull grey CBD office building, yesterday I could see various bits of airforce equipment zooming around (no doubt at my expense) in honour of the Formula 1 circus that’s in town for the weekend. Unlike when I worked on St Kilda Road, I haven’t been able to actually hear the cars, so it’s caused meminimal distraction.
I won’t be going – I’m not much of a rev head myself. If I could handle the inconvenience, I’d probably get rid of my car. But I might tune in for a bit on Sunday. At least with therule changes (I don’t follow the sport that much, so I don’t know what they are – just that there have been some) hopefully it won’t be another "ho hum, M. Schumaker won again, what a surprise" race.