OK, for starters, let me just say, i have a great appreciation for what my sister refers to as “old guys”.  

Of prescription drug abuse.

First- Holy Shit! The Donate Button works. I don’t know who you are, but that helps get my bank account out of the red. You are awesome and after spending this morning alternately being yelled at by charity people and sobbing down the phone to Wonder, I have a wee bit more faith that humanity is not mostly peopled by asswipes. Okay, it’s still mostly peopled by asswipes, but still. If you were here (and I had electricity) I would make you the bestest dinner on the planet and drink to your longevity. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

Now on to the topic of this post.

I am a huge fan of the philosopher John Rawls. He basically turned the golden rule into a blueprint of how society should function with his veil of ignorance ideas on justice. I try to live by that idea. Before I say something mean or judgmental, I try to think of myself in that person’s place. This doesn’t always work, I’m human and fail. But I try.

Over the last week I have noticed two distinct types of behaviors from social service people, and these behaviors are dependent on what kind, if any, help they are going to give.

Behavior #1: Non-judgmental, helpful, kind. Returns phone calls and offers as much assistance as they can as promptly as they can.

Behavior #2: Accusatory, judgmental, condescending and out and out mean. Vicious, actually. They do all of this and don’t offer help. Actually, they seem pretty put out by the fact that I am asking to begin with.

In the last week I have been yelled at for: being poor, not working enough, working too much to qualify for welfare, being a single parent, not receiving child support (seriously, that’s one thing that I really have no control over), being poor and having no excuse for it (sorry, I’m not a drug addict, I don’t have a bunch of kids, and I’ not disabled). I have been treated like shit by more people than you can imagine. Certainly by more people than I could imagine a week ago.

And every single person that treated me like shit refused to help. But they told me that after berating me for all the poor choices I’ve made with my life. They could have saved me the time and effort with a simple “no” but they had to spend an average of 7 minutes each telling me how awful I am.

So I have to wonder why the hell the viscous people went into charitable work to begin with. Did they start out nice? Is it that after being hit requests for assistance that they can’t help with day after day, they have just given up on the helping people aspect of their job and now use their time to vent their petty anger out on their clients? Would they have been nicer to me if they had the assistance to give? (There I go, trying to put myself in the place of the awful social workers).

I could take all that meanness coming at me if I knew that at the end of it, I could get the heat back on at home and the Kid wouldn’t have to spend another night bundled up like a polar bear on the living room floor reading by candle light. I could take a whole lot of shit if there was help attached to it. But I can’t take the shit in place of the help. And I don’t think I should have too. I don’t think being poor is a crime. I don’t think poverty is a moral failure. I would think these things even if I had money (and at one point, under President Clinton, we did) because you have to imagine that the only way to create a just society is by designing a society where you don’t know what you’re place in it will be. In a just society, you don’t know if you are going to end up a poor single mother or a rich tycoon. But I want to live in a society that was kind to both.

Is it not enough that the Kid and I have been suffering in the cold, damp powerless house for the last week?

Apparently not, cause now it’s supposed to fucking snow. Snow.

And of course the damn fuckwads that are supposed to be helping with winter heat bills aren’t returning my calls. Nope.

Seriously. This is too fucking much.

I could cry, but if I do the tears will freeze to my face and I’ll have no heat to melt them.

I’ve said before that the only reasons to marry are for green cards and health insurance. I used to say money too, but it turns out that I am absolutely no good at being in love for cash.

Not to say I haven’t tried. Ah hell, last year I got all stupid over a successful, handsome lawyer who wanted to make me his very well kept housewife. But I just couldn’t do it. I know I would have had a life of financial ease (not just with him but with several others who I could at least have been a very expensive mistress). BUT I CAN’T DO IT!

Why can’t I do it? Maybe it’s self respect, though I am totally down with those who choose to do sex work and don’t think anyone can take your self respect unless you give it to them. Maybe it’s that I have a strong feeling that if you do something you love for money, then you will no longer love the thing you do (so no sex for cash for me. Also no owning a restaurant, selling my paintings ,

It’s been a totally sucky weekend, though I am now at my friend CJ’s house abusing her facilities in the worst way. Tomorrow I’ll be back at work and able to write more.

I was told on Tuesday that it would take 48 hours, which meant that I would have part of the problem fixed by 2pm on Thursday. Numerous phone calls, voicemails, etc were made Thursday afternoon and all day Friday with no response. There is an automated update line that I have been dialing like phone psychic junkie that tells me that there is no information on my case. If I didn’t have a doctor’s appointment that took me months to get first thing tomorrow morning, I would go down to their office and make a nuisance of myself until they tell me something. The soonest I can harass them in person is Tuesday morning, which means the soonest we’d have power back is Wednesday. Which means one entire January week spent in the dark and cold. Shit, at this rate the money I’ve spent on candles and batteries and take out (and overdraft fees cause we didn’t have the money for candles, batteries and take out to begin with), plus the money it’s going to cost me to restock the fridge would have gone a long ass way towards paying my bill.

I’m tired of this. Really really tired. The constant struggle for daily necessities has pretty much eliminated any tiny glints of joy. I’m at the bottom of Maslov’s pyramid with no options for climbing up.

It’s been quiet on the comments front the last day or so. Is it because the comments were broken? Do you all not love me anymore? Show me some love!

Maybe it’s a good time to have a delurking post. Stop in, say hi. Don’t be shy. I mostly don’t bite 😉

Besides, it’s delurking week. It would be positively anti-holiday of you to stay quiet.