Tuesday, March 25

Financial Fears Are Real.

I'm a nervous wreck about money lately. And it comes in waves, so I'm making it through the day to day like a normal person but then I have to sit down and focus on buying health coverage (can we, for just a second, discuss how fucked of a concept that is??? Like how much is my health worth?) and I get an anxiety attack for the record books. I had health coverage. I was set. And then work took it away, literally with a month for me to "find" coverage on the federal marketplace that even remotely compares. And a pay cut to now pay for that new coverage with. 

Not to mention, my tax return got stolen and cashed. What in the actual fuck. I filed the last week of January, and when I still hadn't received it in the mail (DIRECT DEPOSIT FOREVER, KIDS. TAKE MY WARNING.) I got on the federal website to check its status. Status said mailed February Fucking 12th. I applied to get one reissued and got back in the mail yesterday a copy of the check, stating it was already cashed and I could appeal it but it could take months to get a new one. I basically have to prove it wasn't me that deposited it, and that the person who did wasn't given my permission. 
The check legit has my name misspelled where I should have otherwise endorsed it. And it's hand written, not even like a faked signature. The person who cashed it didn't even "sign" their name, they flat out wrote it like a second grader. HOW DOES THIS EVEN HAPPEN? I have to jump through hoops to prove it's not my handwriting, meanwhile some DUDE didn't even have to present my ID to cash MY MONEY FROM THE FEDERAL GOVERNMENT. I can't even. I just can't even. Someone had better be getting fired. It never even got to my mailbox, so somewhere at the post office I got fucked once, and then again with some assbackwards bank teller.

So the moral of the story is the money I worked hard for went to someone else, in such an illegal turn of events. And yet the federal government thinks I make enough money to pay this ridiculous amount of health coverage. I am not necessarily knocking the necessity of health coverage; I am always sick when I'm not covered and I think everyone being covered is a great thing. But my problem is my bracket of income puts me above medicare aid, so my insurance options are limited at best "within" my financial means. They ask for my income history, and that's fine, but they don't take into consideration my living situation. Yes, please, take my grocery money to pay for health coverage, that's great. Because honestly, that's the only place I have "disposable" income these days. I go weeks without buying real groceries, subsisting on coffee and one real meal a day. My coworkers already make fun of me for always eating Ramen at work. Between rent, utilities, transportation to my shitty job, and credit card bills FROM NEEDING HELP COVERING THOSE THINGS ALREADY, I don't exactly have spare money just lying around dying to be put towards the possibility of needing a doctor.

I just want to run away.

The only saving grace is I might have an interview coming up. And that *might* make the ends meet. But I'm terrified to exhale any relief because it's not set in stone at all.

Monday, March 10

Pushback

Yesterday was weird. I don't usually feel out of place, at least not in recent years of figuring out who I truly am, and I usually find a way to mesh and find a comfortable level of camaraderie. But yesterday, for the first time, I felt legitimately (and backhandedly) judged. For just being unapologetically me. For things that I've never felt were out of place. 
The short list:

Wanting to foster dogs simply because my happiest place on earth is surrounded by dogs. But then
"Why don't you just become a groomer? They make a whole lot of money and you'd still be surrounded by dogs!" 
-- just completely missing the point.

"Those heels! Are those 4 inches? 5?! Hussy heels oh my God I love them! They're perfectly ridiculous!"  
-- meanwhile I quite like my shoes. I wore them intentionally, and not to be intentionally ridiculous.

"We don't want our children to have tattoos, and we don't really like them ourselves, but we like to live vicariously through yours! Oh my g-- are those BREASTS!!? You need a censor bar! Why don't you go back to the tattooer and have a top put on her!??" 
-- uuuh because I like her this way. Boobs are beautiful. They do not have any reason to offend your children. Half of your kids already own a pair!

My dog doesn't know what to do around cars. He's never had to. But this weekend he had to get out of the way of cars trying to use the driveway. So I simply say 
"He has no idea what to do, he's sort of stupid." 
And the immediate reply was 
"Yeah he really is. I had to honk non stop to keep him moving away from my car. Real dumb." 
-- well you can just go kick rocks. You are not allowed to talk shit about my dog.

So anyway... just weird. Just different. I've felt out of place before, but this was even more different than that - this was like I was surrounded by likeminded people, people masquerading as liberal, who still passed judgement. Stop that, on behalf of everyone who's flying the flag of total open-minded judgement-free acceptance.