Before the Retreat: the Reality Show Nobody Asked For
Before I went on the retreat (which was, no exaggeration, the spiritual equivalent of a spa day for my soul), my life looked like the blooper reel for a reality show that never should’ve been greenlit.
First contestant: Verizon. I begged them to lock down my account while it was actively being hacked. Their shithole-country-located, non-English-speaking agent stared into the void, shrugged, and said, “Texts are for calling us, Miss Holly! Is good, is normal!” as if I was too stupid to understand linear time.
Result? My credit score belly-flopped off a cliff precisely when I needed to rent a new apartment.
Because why not stack crises like pancakes?
Enter contestant number two: my landlord. He plowed into my parked car, uninsured. Instead of apologizing or writing a check like a functioning human, he told me to “just use your uninsured motorist coverage.”
Incredible advice from a man whose marriage collapsed over this exact stunt (yes, this was the proverbial straw), who now has no license, three years in Vermont’s high-risk insurance pool, and a lawsuit from my insurance company with his name on it.
Bravo, sir. Truly, a masterclass in bad decisions.
And lest you think I could just roll with it: Vermont law basically says, “Yes, your landlord is a disaster — but don’t worry, he can absolutely pass his trainwreck onto you by raising your rent.”
Having already survived 18 years under the roof of Angry Human Male Blaming Me For Everything™, I was not signing up for the sequel.
So, to recap: hacked Verizon account, nuked credit score, uninsured crash-test-dummy landlord, forced apartment hunt.
My life was less “together adult” and more “extended car crash in clown makeup.”
Government: The Plot Twist Nobody Saw Coming
Here’s where it gets truly humiliating. I call a Vermont consumer protection agent, expecting maybe a polite shrug.
Instead? Verizon’s executive office is blowing up my phone within hours like I’m suddenly their VIP overlord. Charges wiped. Credit healing. Affirm — the clown car’s clown car — finally admitting it was all fraudulent.
Translation: the only reason anything got fixed is because the government made them do it.
I hated typing that sentence.
I can feel Milton Friedman weeping into his ghostly hands.
But it is what it is.
The free market doesn’t punish failure anymore — it rewards companies for outsourcing to call centers where “Help, someone is hacking me right now” translates into, “Yes Miss Holly, is good! Is normal!”
Some of you want to argue with me, but you’re wrong. Since COVID, customer service is nonexistent and incompetence is the norm.
We’re headed for a world of fixers.
I know it. You know it.
And the market is simply not punishing this bullshit.
I want to say that the market will eventually catch up and fix things, and maybe it will. But for now, it isn’t.
The conservative article of faith that the free market fixes everything is presently false, and that’s the unpalatable truth.
Meanwhile, one civil servant in Montpelier had Verizon sprinting like it was a fire drill.
I don’t like what this says about the current state of American capitalism, but my credit score does.
Here we are.
The Good News (Yes, There’s Some)
Somehow, I landed a bigger apartment for the same rent, and it’s closer to
. Win.What’s Next: Chaos With a Side of Content
Friday morning, I’ll re-post my annual essay for National Suicide Prevention Awareness Month — my one serious, non-ironic tradition. Because it matters.
After that, content will slow down — I just need to survive movers, unpacking, and the part of my personality that insists I won’t sleep properly until every spatula and sock has a permanent, neatly labeled home.
Coming up after the dust settles:
My rebooted American history project will begin with a long review of a 900-page George Washington biography (spoiler: dentures, good vibes).
A fresh meditation on the intersection of social media, trauma, and Wokism (fun for the whole family).
Vermont foliage pictures, including some prints if I manage to get one or two worthy of such, plus descriptive autumn writing that will basically be pumpkin spice in paragraph form.
A huge Halloween print launch (paid subs get early access and a discount, because capitalism may be presently incapable of punishing incompetence, but I still have student loans).
Closing Time
That’s where things stand: chaos mostly wrangled, new apartment secured, and more writing on the way.
Stay tuned — the next round will reboot harder than Verizon’s call tree after a government worker lights a fire under their incompetent asses.
If Irony were an actual element or compound, you would now have cornered the market.
I do not know what else to say except that I am glad things turned out better and that your sarcastic wit is unimpaired. Looking forward to further writings. May bad events and ill luck stay far from your door.
Glad the problems were resolved. Milton Friedman did think that government could address actual fraud, and most libertarians or libertarian-ish people agree. Ayn Rand agreed, but of course she had a convoluted explanation as to why fraud is a species of force.
I think one problem is that cell phone providers compete on price but not anything else. I’d pay a little more if I were promised that the call centers would be staffed by actual Americans who speak English and can understand an actual sentence.