Just when I think I have the system figured out here, I am hit with a new challenge. Last week, I got a notice from Kronofogden. My heart started pounding and I felt like either crying or getting sick or both. For those of you that don’t live here, Krongofogden is the big time bill collector. These guys are tougher than the IRS. A notice from them meant that my life here was in danger. I was scared.
In Swedish, the letter basically informed me that someone would be showing up on my doorstep soon and demanding payment. And if I didn’t pay, who knows? I didn’t understand all the details, I must admit. So my imagination took over and I had visions of being sent off to some debtor’s prison. Then in looking at the notice, Robert and I discovered this was for a bill we knew had been paid. We checked, and yes it had been paid.
Ah, sweet relief. Then anger struck. In fact, I was way beyond angry and said some very not nice things about both the bill collector and the company that had sent me to the bill collector. I’m sure it’s not fun being sent to collection at any time, but I can definitely say that it’s not fun to be sent to collection for a bill you have in fact paid. Especially when you don’t understand all the nuances of the language and the reason why you are here in collection hell in the first place. Too upset to handle this fiasco rationally, my sweet husband Robert took over for me. In talking to Kronofogden, they said we had to prove we had paid this bill. So we e-mailed them a copy of my bank statement that showed the payment. Then we had to wait overnight. But the next morning, the bill collector called and said everything had been taken care of. Now that was a big relief.
So my sad tale ends happily. I won’t be going to debtor’s prison. But the saga got me thinking that I need to study Swedish again…
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