For the second time, I did a bit of sit-down standup comedy with a rep from an investment company about the difficulties and depth of the paperwork required to make a simple change in status and for the second time, the person played along. I think it's clear that they know perfectly well that all their procedures are a pain in the ass. It makes me feel better that they're willing to joke about it and that they seem to be sorry about it.
In this case, though, somebody made a mistake. It may have been me, but I don't think so. I was told that I could just name myself plan manager. (Wait-- let me try it. I'm the plan manager! It worked! It worked! Naw, I guess not.) I pooted around for a month or so, and now find that I can't. I have to send the letter from the probate court naming me personal representative and a letter of instruction naming myself plan manager. And they have to have the embossed original, so I can't fax it. None of this is any major deal; just a minor pain in the butt. At least the nice lady said I don't really have to fill out the forms at midnight on Wednesday under a full moon while jumping on one foot with one hand on top of my head. So there's that. She DID say that I Love Lucy has to be on, however.
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