Hi, I see you made it. I hope seeing my face this big isn’t too scary for you. I was just sitting here reading about the “Eight Things that Will Doom a Relationship“. I thought I better get cracking before my date with Handyman this weekend. I already know one…”Be charming” Heh! Yup, yup, yup. And then there’s its bipolar cousin…”Don’t be neurotic and needy like your mother.” Ha! I just made that one up just now, since it was my mom’s birthday yesterday and we had to refer to her chair as the throne throughout her birthday party. And you wonder why I talk about myself in first person.
Anyways, the list was fairly self explanatory, although its a scientific fact that love/infatuation/lust all make your brain go wack-a-doo, and that’s why they have to repeatedly run articles in newspapers and write books like “He’s not into you” and do shows on “Oprah” because we’re just dumb humans who are blinded by the thought of someone 1) holding us. 2) telling us nice things. 3) buying us ice cream (wink, wink) 4). picking up the cat hairball that looks like the remnents from something in “Alien” and did I mention holding us? I am so ready to be held right now. Yowza.
My week continues to be craptacular in the first degree. Like I’ve written e-mails to several people and gotten no replies. I’ve been called the wrong name by three people…Once at my old job by the Jesus freak who called me “Deb”. He might have just been messing with my head or Jesus told him to do it or something. Someone on the internet who knows me, left a comment to “Julia” and then I got mail from my doctor of 8 years with the name “Caroline” on the envelope. Sorry dudes, none of those names are even close to what is on my birth certificate.
And then I got totally nuked by my case manager yesterday. “R” has been my worker for over 8 years. We get along really well because she has a caustic sense of humor like me and we’ll sometimes talk about things like internet dating and stuff and she’s almost like a friend rather than a case manager. Yesterday I asked her to take me to the Medicaid office, because I didn’t want to face that horrific bitch of a worker because I was a few days late with some paperwork. Without the approval of this bitch, I have no health insurance. So, as you can see, it was of some importance.
So we went there. “R” drove rather angrily and haphazardly, like she was pissed off. We went up to the office and dropped off the paperwork. I wanted her to help me deal with the Evil Medicaid Hellion, but I guess it was feeding hour at the HELLicaid office and we didn’t get to see her.
So we get back in the car and I was angsting out about whether I would have health insurance for June and could “R’ maybe call the office in a day or two to check. And she shoots me this glance and says, “What if I died tomorrow, then what would you do?”
This is the woman assigned to help me with the complexities of the social services of America. I suffer from severe anxiety. I could have very easily taken the paperwork down to HELLicaid by myself. I just wanted and needed her support. Because why? THAT’S HER JOB. And besides what kind of thing is that to say to someone on disability who suffers from anxiety and depression?
Anyways, she dropped me off in the parking lot at my old job and I went and sat in my car and cried for about 15 minutes.
And then this morning I get a call from Charlemagne who tore me a new one because I didn’t write his full name in our art class newsletter. And also there was no mention of a sponsor from our recent seminar at the university. He kept sharply asked me if I was the editor and unless my phone was converting my language to Lithuanian and he was unable to understand me, I’m pretty sure I kept saying no. I can’t put information in a newsletter unless you give it to me asshole. And no, I don’t write it, I’m just the lowly graphic artist putting it together.
And he has a lot of nerve after last night. I went to help co-host our class at 6:30. I was waiting and waiting. Why does this seem so familiar???????????????????? And I don’t have a key. Fortunately the manager of the community center was still there and he unlocked our door and I was able to start frantically pulling things out with the help of our incoming customers. Charlemagne comes strolling in 3 minutes before the class was due to start. I was furious.
Last night was the last time I will co-host. I’m done. Finito. I don’t need the stress.
So after I hung up from Charlemagne this morning I just started crying again. I’m really not playing the victim here, but its been a crappy week. I even had a bird poop inside my car.
But I did get an e-mail from Handyman this morning. Our date for Friday night is set. I had been angsting about that, thinking he would have second thoughts and wouldn’t call or write back, you know, since apparently I’m invisible, people can’t remember my name, they can yell at me and birds can poop in my car.