That Was The Worst Christmas Ever!

I am being driven INSANE by the bank.
They have managed to drag their asses since the second week of May. I've given them everything they wanted and they still want more and make excuses. It's pissing me off to no end.
"We need this or that". I send it. "No, we need this other thing..."
How about FUCK OFF?

I'm done being patient, since that was A MONTH AGO. Fucking retarded.

I have to make copies of the goddamn certificates for the one bank account I've literally never touched and didn't set up in the first place and my mom told me we didn't have them, they didn't exist. Then tonight she goes "They're in the fire box."
Okay, so why didn't you say that a week ago when I asked for them???????????
And now I can't find the keys for the goddamn fire box.

That reminds me of a quaint story.

"Mom, what would be the first thing you would grab if the house caught on fire?"
She thought for a moment and said, "The fire box."
I blinked. "Mom...the fire box is fireproof. That's why it's a fire box...so you don't have to grab it when the house is on fire and it won't burn."
"Oh...yeah, I guess you're right. Well, I'd grab the cat."
?!!?