I have spent the last two days on the phone with Health Services and Aetna Chickering through Tufts. Why? To try and figure out why Aetna doesn't think I exist. AKA: To figure out who ****ed up.

Ninety-five phone calls later, I still don't exist in their database, and the prescription I need "may or may not be covered, even if our databases had you listed." Translation: I have to shell out $230 so I can sit in a chair and type these posts without my back muscles disintegrating.

UGHHHHHHHHHH. I'M MOVING TO CANADA.

Great. Now I sound like Michael Moore. Could this day get any worse?