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Still so short on fundage, it's pitiful. May have to consider roasting one of the local squirrels on spit. And, of course, loading the stupid laundry machine, my glasses flew off my face and a screw went completely missing. (For those in the know, my vision is for crap right now anyway.)
On top of which, I got a letter from my former life insurance company with whom I had a loan that my disability waiver is supposed to cover the payments for. TWO freakings months after it was dated! This is the second time they've tried to screw me over like this. It's hard enough to try and get out to see a psych with the agoraphobia, much less last minute, but to try an meet a deadline which already passed on OCTOBER 22nd!!!! What the hell?! I'm calling them tomorrow and I'm calling FOUL! You can't just date a letter 9/11/09, set a termination date for the waiver for 10/22/09 and then mail the letter to arrive 11/11/09. It's B.S. On top of which, these jack-off's (pardon my gutteral English cursing), require me to see the freaking doctor more often than my damn case-worker. You know? The one that I have to reassure that I'm REALLY disabled. If it's good enough to hold up to the governments standards for disability, where the hell do THEY get off pulling this CRAP.
I have to really gear myself up, but good to leave the house at all and that's when I'm not driving myself, because I have to be medicated to the gills, then I get to mumble and slur my way through personal and humiliating questions with someone I don't know from Adam. That's AFTER braving the traffic, the parking lot, the waiting room, etc. all FILLED with people. People who make me feel like I'm having a heart attack and often cause me to pass out in fear, if they accidentally brush up against me or something. Then, I get the joy of doing the whole thing over in reverse, only by then, the meds are starting to wear off and I don't dare dose myself again to soon. People without agoraphobia or social anxiety disorders have no clue. Then, add in the PTSD and even a harmless accident, like being pushed against a wall and you're suddenly like 'BAM'! Back in 'Nam', man! For example. Mostly I just curl up in a fetal position on the floor, cry, try to breathe and beg whoever the poor witless bystander is to please don't hurt me, I promise I'll be good! Can we spell HUMILIATION, people?!
I don't really need the added stress of this insurance bull-crap hanging over my head or the broken glasses, or the fact that as we speak, my washing machine is making ominous growling noises that never lead to anything good.
Oh, and my pug got into the leftover Halloween candy, so YAY! Super-sugar spaz! Luckily, it was nothing with chocolate in it. Unluckily, I've got what amounts to a toddler on speed doing laps around my living room who will eventually void the noxious substance from her system, at probably the worst possible moment, in the most disgusting and horrific place imaginable! I can't even really blame her. She's too short to reach the cabinet it was on, which means that my lab-shepherd mix has been playing trouble maker yet again. I love her to bits, but two broken screen doors, one dog-crapped ruined comfy chair, one pit set eaten, and a ton of other incidents and I'm about to see if I can find somebody to take her. I'm good with my girls. My Rottie shakes, speaks, counts, opens doors, works ice-makers on refrigerators, lays down, sits, stays, hell - if I could teach her how, SHE'D do the laundry. My pug is a good girl, hyper right now, but generally good. She uses piddle pads, because she doesn't like to go outside, but it's not really inconvenient at all. No more so than a diaper hamper. Sheba is well house-broken and behaves fairly well. She does get jealous and will try to instigate a world war, if I let her. She was also horribly abused and resuced from a puppy mill. I managed to save her from having to have her two rear legs amputated. Getting her to come when called, much less sit or anything else... it's almost as if she's autistic, but I know it's just from all the suffering the poor thing's been through. I'd like to take the jerks that did this to her and lock them in a box too small to even stretch their legs out behind them and ignore and starve them half to death. I'm not violent or vindictive and I'm not some staunch PETA person or anything - but there's right and there's wrong. The pititful thing is these people got a short jail term and a fine. They'll just mosey down the road a bit and start all over again. Makes me want to puke!
Diatribe done for today. For now.
Tonya
On top of which, I got a letter from my former life insurance company with whom I had a loan that my disability waiver is supposed to cover the payments for. TWO freakings months after it was dated! This is the second time they've tried to screw me over like this. It's hard enough to try and get out to see a psych with the agoraphobia, much less last minute, but to try an meet a deadline which already passed on OCTOBER 22nd!!!! What the hell?! I'm calling them tomorrow and I'm calling FOUL! You can't just date a letter 9/11/09, set a termination date for the waiver for 10/22/09 and then mail the letter to arrive 11/11/09. It's B.S. On top of which, these jack-off's (pardon my gutteral English cursing), require me to see the freaking doctor more often than my damn case-worker. You know? The one that I have to reassure that I'm REALLY disabled. If it's good enough to hold up to the governments standards for disability, where the hell do THEY get off pulling this CRAP.
I have to really gear myself up, but good to leave the house at all and that's when I'm not driving myself, because I have to be medicated to the gills, then I get to mumble and slur my way through personal and humiliating questions with someone I don't know from Adam. That's AFTER braving the traffic, the parking lot, the waiting room, etc. all FILLED with people. People who make me feel like I'm having a heart attack and often cause me to pass out in fear, if they accidentally brush up against me or something. Then, I get the joy of doing the whole thing over in reverse, only by then, the meds are starting to wear off and I don't dare dose myself again to soon. People without agoraphobia or social anxiety disorders have no clue. Then, add in the PTSD and even a harmless accident, like being pushed against a wall and you're suddenly like 'BAM'! Back in 'Nam', man! For example. Mostly I just curl up in a fetal position on the floor, cry, try to breathe and beg whoever the poor witless bystander is to please don't hurt me, I promise I'll be good! Can we spell HUMILIATION, people?!
I don't really need the added stress of this insurance bull-crap hanging over my head or the broken glasses, or the fact that as we speak, my washing machine is making ominous growling noises that never lead to anything good.
Oh, and my pug got into the leftover Halloween candy, so YAY! Super-sugar spaz! Luckily, it was nothing with chocolate in it. Unluckily, I've got what amounts to a toddler on speed doing laps around my living room who will eventually void the noxious substance from her system, at probably the worst possible moment, in the most disgusting and horrific place imaginable! I can't even really blame her. She's too short to reach the cabinet it was on, which means that my lab-shepherd mix has been playing trouble maker yet again. I love her to bits, but two broken screen doors, one dog-crapped ruined comfy chair, one pit set eaten, and a ton of other incidents and I'm about to see if I can find somebody to take her. I'm good with my girls. My Rottie shakes, speaks, counts, opens doors, works ice-makers on refrigerators, lays down, sits, stays, hell - if I could teach her how, SHE'D do the laundry. My pug is a good girl, hyper right now, but generally good. She uses piddle pads, because she doesn't like to go outside, but it's not really inconvenient at all. No more so than a diaper hamper. Sheba is well house-broken and behaves fairly well. She does get jealous and will try to instigate a world war, if I let her. She was also horribly abused and resuced from a puppy mill. I managed to save her from having to have her two rear legs amputated. Getting her to come when called, much less sit or anything else... it's almost as if she's autistic, but I know it's just from all the suffering the poor thing's been through. I'd like to take the jerks that did this to her and lock them in a box too small to even stretch their legs out behind them and ignore and starve them half to death. I'm not violent or vindictive and I'm not some staunch PETA person or anything - but there's right and there's wrong. The pititful thing is these people got a short jail term and a fine. They'll just mosey down the road a bit and start all over again. Makes me want to puke!
Diatribe done for today. For now.
Tonya
