In which I’d forgotten I’m a second-class citizen.
Today I went to a local bank and tried to open a checking account. I was denied (thanks, TeleCheck) because the many bills from my marriage haven’t been paid and they’re all in my name. I never did deal with my financial issues… mainly because I haven’t had a real job until now.
I’ll be getting a post office box (to keep my bills from filling up Gramma’s mailbox, once my new location is known to my diverse creditors and they start harassing me), requesting a report from chexhelp.com, and then contacting one of those places that helps you get your bills reduced by working with your creditors. I’ll spend the winter and spring paying back my family (for the move and upcoming surgery), and then I’ll spend the next ten years paying off all the credit card and cell phone companies I owe.
Although, if The Ex sells the farm property and he sends me some money, it may only take five or six.
Years.
To get out of utter, abject debt.
Today’s moral is this: no matter how deeply in love you think you are, do not put all the bills of any relationship into your own name, spend more than you earn, allow your partner to quit working, let the relationship fail, and then spend a year depressed and not making any money.
Because while it all sounds really super double-plus fun, it totally fucks up your credit score. For real.
There are plenty of ways to get ahead. The first is so basic I’m almost embarrassed to say it: spend less than you earn.” – Paul Clitheroe
“The poverty of our century is unlike that of any other. It is not, as poverty was before, the result of natural scarcity, but of a set of priorities imposed upon the rest of the world by the rich. Consequently, the modern poor are not pitied…but written off as trash. The twentieth-century consumer economy has produced the first culture for which a beggar is a reminder of nothing.” – John Berger
“Poor and content is rich, and rich enough.” – William Shakespeare
“The only man who sticks closer to you in adversity than a friend is a creditor.” – Author Unknown
Until I get my finances sorted, I am unable to open even a savings account. I’m not sure how I’m supposed to pay all these bills when I can’t get a checking account and debit card… I’ll be standing in line at the post office buying money orders ad infinitum, I suppose.
Sometimes it occurs to me that I have made a bit of a hash of certain aspects of my life. *sigh*
In which this totally cracks me up!
Sometimes I go to I Can Haz Cheeseburger and laugh my arse off at stuff like this:
…and this:
I mean, OMFG, do you see that cute bold bunneh stealin’ that cookeh? PEOPLE, HAVE YOU EVER SEEN ANYTHING MORE LIKELY TO INDUCE ADULT ONSET DIABETES?! I DON’T THINK SO!
Today is payday for me. I am so excited I can hardly stand myself because, well, TEH MONEH: I WANTZ IT.
In other news, Happy Halloween, my babies!
That is all. *smooch*
In which there’s another riveting post about my damned uterus! (Can I generate content, or can I generate content!) (Wait. Don’t answer that; I’ll probably cry.)
I had to call the clinic this morning to get my biopsy results, even though they promised they’d call me by Tuesday afternoon. The biopsy shows I have a benign prolapsed fibroid tumor, which is exactly what we were expecting the biopsy to show. (In other words, I don’t have uterine cancer. Yay!)
My uterus monster sucks. I want the fucker out, and I want it out before my next period because this month SUCKED SO BAD. OMFG. I couldn’t make it through my shift Monday and had to go home and sleep for 14 hours. I lost at a pint of blood in four hours that day; heavy bleeding is common with fibroids and believe you me when I report that IT SUCKS. I won’t even talk about the pain or how scary it is to bleed like that, nor about the general exhaustion and despair that accompany the whole process.
I’ve applied for Medicaid (thanks for the suggestion, amped!) and should hear back on that in the next day or two. Since I have no assets whatsoever, I may be eligible for some kind of coverage. Keep your fingers crossed for me.
I have no idea what the surgery will cost – maybe around six grand? – so it’s hard to prepare financially. No doubt I’ll be making payments for the next few years whether I’m eligible for any kind of benefits or not. I’d hoped to get new glasses and have my teeth cleaned and buy another car, and then maybe splurge on some clothes without holes in them, but I guess I’ll pay for surgery instead. (I am so sick of having my check spent before I earn it. Gah. Poverty may be spiritually enriching, sure, but a girl can bitch, can’t she?)
I’m waiting to hear from Medicaid before scheduling surgery. The nurse I spoke with today was all weird and vague and useless, so I’m not even really clear on what my next step is supposed to be, but I think it involves scheduling a follow-up appointment and getting referred to the hospital.
During my appointment last week, the doctor was all, “You have to have this out within the next month, and if you start running a temperature you’ll need to get in here right away.” But today, the nurse made it sound as if her interest in helping me was tied directly to my insurance, which of course I don’t have. I’m not certain but I think she may have been trying to tell me, in code, that I need to call a lot and complain a lot so that her office can report to Medicaid that the problem is, in fact, an emergency. Hard to tell, but I have called three times in just as many days to complain about pain and bleeding, so they have records of that.
The whole thing sucks, and ruminating upon it gives me anxiety attacks.
In other news, living with Gramma rocks, and in the near future I shall write a post about exactly how excellent she is. And today I rode the bus to work and it was all amusing and shit because [A] I haven’t lived in a town with public transportation for over a decade, and [B] there was a cute boy, who got on and off at the same stops I did, eyeballing me in that style specially reserved for public buses and trains. I’ve been losing weight since I got here because I’m not eating like a pig, and that plus getting ogled makes me feel double plus good awesome!
In which there’s an actual reason for it.
The short version: I went to the gynecologist yesterday, and it turns out I have a giant fibroid in my uterus and need to have surgery within the month.
The long version contains way TMI and (to protect those of you who don’t want to know any more about my uterus than you already do) is concealed after the break!
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In which being female sometimes sucks.
So it’s that time again. I feel like a balloon, and I keep having mild panic symptoms. Any minute now the faucet should open and I’ll be bleeding like a stuck pig.
Walking to and from work for the next couple of days should prove to be interesting.
Since I live a block from Planned Parenthood and I haven’t had a pap in three years, I’ll be making an appointment there for the week after next to let someone dig around in my innards. Then I can have a long conversation with a professional about how much my period sucks. Who knows, maybe they can offer me some relief – wouldn’t that be awesome?
In other news, I’ve pretty much finished training at my new job and am spending the afternoon listening in on another tech’s calls. It’s all standard stuff, mostly dial-up support but some line-sharing DSL and wireless to keep it interesting. I think I’m gonna like it here!
Yes, this is exactly the kind of riveting content that brings you back to the ‘box time and time again, eh?
In which there’s early, and then there’s “It’s so early I’m a total retard.”
I had to be at work at eight, so I got up at six-thirty. (!!!) It was so early that I actually forgot to wash my hair in the shower. I mean, hello.
Thank God my normal schedule will be noon to nine.
Gramma made me a fried egg and toast and a cup of tea. It’s lucky she did or I wouldn’t have had time to eat. (She rocks. She also had the jeep towed to her favorite shop yesterday ’cause she thinks I should have wheels with winter coming on.)
I walked to work down Second Ave, and because it was so early I was stupid, it took longer than necessary and I was three minutes late. (Gah!)
Training is going well because I’m so over-qualified that my trainer and I spent 45 minutes this afternoon discussing four-wheeling and the details of what he’s going to do with his Bronco.
I should probably be taking calls by the end of the week if I’m lucky. Since I already understand Internet connectivity issues, all I really have to learn are the specifics of the DSL hardware they use here and their proprietary call logging/ticketing software.
In other news, I hope to order a DSL connection soon so can get online from home.
In which I got a job within 48 hours, ’cause I’m cool like that.
I got here Wednesday night. Thursday afternoon I had a phone interview. Friday morning I had facetime with the three principals, and before I’d even made it all the way home they’d called to hire me and to invite me back for lunch at one o’clock so I could meet everyone.
I HAVE A JOB IN MY INDUSTRY! Finally! I work here, doing tech support. I took the first job offered to me because they gave me what I wanted for an hourly rate and because it’s within walking distance – the jeep’s still dead and may not be running for awhile (even though grandma seems to be having it towed to the shop she uses while I’m at work today, which is WAY COOL OF HER).
My lunch break is over in two minutes, so I’d better git. As soon as I have an Internet connection at home I’ll start posting regularly again.
In which the jeep shit the bed.
Tuesday, I got the jeep from the mechanic for a mere $500 (*gag*) and was on the road by two. I drove 460 miles or so to Burley, Idaho – the jeep drove perfectly the whole day – and on the third try I finally found a motel with a vacancy. By 11:30, the dog and I were passed out.
The next morning, the thing wouldn’t start. Same symptoms as before: it would try to turn over, but didn’t seem to be getting any fuel.
I pulled out my cell phone, booted up the Google Maps application I’d downloaded a couple of weeks ago, and found a nearby parts store. I had them deliver a fuel pump relay to me in the motel parking lot. You know, just in case. What the hell.
The new relay didn’t help. I put the old one back in, and mysteriously, the engine coughed and sputtered and finally lit up. It squealed like talons on a blackboard for awhile, but eventually the belt settled down and all was a go.
People call Chicago the windy city, but lemmie tell you what: driving I-84 into Boise is in-fucking-SANE. Driving straight up a steep grade with a brutal head wind SUCKS, and I’m not even mentioning what it does to your gas mileage. I tried to stop for food in Boise because I was starving, but the exit I took had nothing I wanted to eat so I only got gas. The interstate through there is under intense construction, so I didn’t bother with any of the other exists.
Soon we were in Oregon. We stopped in Baker City for gas and lunch – I got to eat at my favorite left-coast junk food chain, Taco Time. When I got back on the interstate, the jeep starting dying every so often. It was acting like it was full of bad gas, because it would choke and cough, and if I pulled over and let it sputter for a bit it would even out and I could drive again for another ten miles or so. But… coming down off of the Blue Mountains, there’s a stretch of 6% down grade. The jeep died, but since the key was in the ON position I had steering and brakes, and I just coasted at 60 MPH to the bottom where I pulled over and started it back up. Still, one’s freakin’ engine should not go CLUNK! every so often and die at highway speeds, it just isn’t nice.
For awhile I thought it was an electrical problem, because it wouldn’t die if I had all the electric items – like the heater – turned off. It’s cold in the mountains and the jeep’s cab is hardly airtight, so I was bundled up in coats and sweaters. Just about the time I’d decided I’d solved the fuel delivery problem – some electrical problem with the heater circuit causing the fuel pump circuit to fail intermittantly – it died again. With the heater off.
Crap. This is what it was doing before it died and spent three days in Rawlins. Something is killing my fuel pump!
I finally made it to exit 214 toward Milton-Freewater. Bindu was demanding to be let out of the damn car RIGHT THIS VERY INSTANT, so I stopped and walked her. We were less than an hour away! Please, jeep gods, just get me there. I loaded the dog up and pushed on.
20 miles later, the fucking jeep OVERHEATED. Overheated! WTF?! I’d been driving along, thinking, “Oh my ghod, I think we’re going to make it, PLEASE let me make it, I’m soooo close,” and then I glanced down at my gauges and was 20 degrees from being in the red. I pulled over and greasy coolant-laden steam washed over my windshield.
Fuck. Fuck, fuck, FUCK!!! I had no water. I usually travel with a couple of gallons, because once, years ago, the thermostat decided to stick in the middle of Nebraska, but Bindu and I had already drunk it all. I banged my head on the steering wheel. So freakin’ close.
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In which I’m sitting here waiting.
I just spoke with the mechanic. He says he hopes to have me “back on the road by noon. Earlier, if we can manage it.” Check-out at the motel is eleven; if I’m very lucky they’ll let me stay an extra hour so I don’t have to wait in the parking lot with my dog and my luggage.
If the jeep isn’t finished today, I’ll be going back to my mom’s house until either it is or we’ve determined that it’s dead.
In other news, I’ve just now talked to one of the ISPs and I have a phone interview as soon as I get to Walla Walla!
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4 random books from my Library!
