“I couldn't live a week without a private library
- indeed, I'd part with all my furniture and squat and sleep on the floor
before I'd let go of the 1500 or so books I possess.” ― H.P. Lovecraft

Whistling In The Graveyard

Monday, February 28, 2005

I went to the DHHR today.

They won't pay any more of my bills.

Even though the reason I need them to pay them is because they're dragging ass.

They say my 'emergency assistance period' is over. So now I need to pay my $73 electric bill by Wed or they shut it off.

I'm in default on the payment plan because I missed a bill. I missed a bill because the fucking postman can't get our address right.

So I have the $73 electric bill due on Wednesday, $164 to the Police Trash & Fire by Friday and $55 for cable also on Friday.

I have the money for the police in my pocket and I have about $50 in the bank. I say ‘about’ $50 because the bank website has decided to not let me check my balance anymore.

So the plan is to pay the electric bill tomorrow, scrape together whatever money I can to pay the police so they don’t take my Grandmother to court.

See, the DHHR told me that it would be no problem for them to pay my bills when they became shut-off notices, so I let them go till they became shut off notices. It’s not like I had much choice, I can’t work.

I’ve been applying for jobs that I could do in the condition I’m in, but nobody will hire me. Fucking Hollywood Video won’t fucking hire me to work in a fucking video store. What the fuck? I have a fucking COLLEGE DEGREE and I can’t get a job in a FUCKING VIDEO STORE?

So I find out the hard way that you don’t get a shut off notice for the Police, Trash & Fire fee, you get turned over to a collection agency.

Well since the bill is in my dead Grandfather’s name (I tried to change it, they wouldn’t let me) I figured that he wouldn’t mind if his credit took a hit. Don’t tell my uncle though. He’s Catholic. To him your credit rating means something in the afterlife.

Well after I got the collection agency letter I got another one saying they were going to take my Grandfather to court. Just as I was thinking "Good fucking luck" I noticed that my Grandmother’s name was also on the letter.

Fuck.

So I tried to get the bill changed into my name again explaining the situation. I figured if nothing else I could take the hit for Grandma, but they won’t change the name on the bill because it has to be in the name of the person that the deed to the house is in.

The fact that he’s been dead for 34 years has surprisingly little bearing on the situation.

So when I went to the DHHR today to get them to pay my electric bill and try against all hope to get them to pay the Police thing too, it was only because they implied that they’d continue to keep me afloat till they got me an answer about Medicaid.

If I got on Medicaid I wouldn’t need them to pay my bills, Medicaid would do it. But because they won’t get off their asses and send the right paperwork to the right people then I can’t get Medicaid and…….

FUCK!!!

When I went to them I could sustain myself. This was back in fucking NOVEMBER. Why is it OK for the government to fuck around with my life and not get shit done that I need done, but I’ve got to be on top of my shit?

Allright, I’m hardly on top of my shit, but I’m doing a lot better than those fucks are. I mean, it was fucking NOVEMBER. I never had much confidence in the government, but Jesus Christ, if I’d have gotten on back in November I could have had my surgery done, been recovered and been back to fucking work by now.

You’d think that being unemployed for three years would never get old, but you know what? It really doesn’t. Not having a job kicks ass. What sucks is not having any money.

And I know I’m not alone in being broke. Many of you reading this aren’t much better off than I am, but I got this blog to vent a little and that’s what I’m doing.

I’ll go back to posting about jerking off tomorrow.

I promise.

Right after I call the state again and try to get someone knocked off their ass. Sometime in the near future I’ll be trying to put all this into some sort of coherent form for a new TerriblyWrong.com article.

That is, if I’m not institutionalized before I can do it.

I mean, what the fuck? I don’t want to live off the government forever. I’d gladly go back to work tomorrow if I could, but I can’t. In order to go back, I need my surgery. To get the surgery I have to have insurance. The only way to get insurance that will pay for a pre-existing condition is to get Medicaid. The only way to get Medicaid is through the fuckers that I’m dealing with now.

My life is in the hands of the government of the state of West Virginia, and I can assure you that’s got me brimming with fucking hope right now.

Fuck it, I’ve rambled on long enough. I’m gonna fire up a video game and make the most of my electricity while I’ve still got it.

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