let’s seee. in a nutshell……
talbert house? won’t be fucking going back. why? they’ve flat out lied to me 3 times now and wasted my time 2ce. when we 1st got there yesterday some barney fife mother fucker (only minus the charm and humour of Don Knotts) charged at me with his fucking hand on his stun gin. niiiiice. was i getting out of the car too aggressively. were my crutches too fucking shiny for your ass? ‘these spaces are clearly marked for..’ no. they aren’t. we made a point of checking. there are 5 spaces along the side of the building for the tax place on the 1st floor. the space we were parking in didn’t even have a fucking handicapped logo on it.
so i’m done. if that’s the reception they give people there? if they’re going to be singularly unhelpful? not interested. especially considering the fact that the place is in SUCH a bad cracktown area that they close at 330!!!! gee ain’t that right about the time the crack dealers are waking up to come sell to the kiddies on their way home from school? they also claimed that paperwork THAT THEY OKAYED using a recipt from the ATM showing proof of income was unacceptable AFTER they accepted it. and i might add that every OTHER agency even vaguely related to SSI and disability accepts that as proof of income up to and including the fucking government agencies themselves. i have used those ATM receipts as proof of income for the past 5 years (ever since i earned the right to do my yearly recert interviews over the telephone instead of having to go in). so yeah. called my case manager when i got home and left her a message about it but she still hasn’t called me. big shock. starting to get more than a little pissed off.
disappointed? met someone a couple weeks ago that i’ve been talking to.we seemed to be getting on fine. then he asked to talk live online. fine. mostly behaved himself. not entirely. i left it at a we’ll see and went to bed. fucker tried to dream walk me. (buzzer) wrong answer. thank you for playing. your consolation prize will be a block mute and report and i’ll warn anyone that asks me about you Michael O’grady. psychic rapists are not cool. to bad so sad. with the kick i nailed him with in the dreaming, he’ll be walking funny in real life for DAYS.
ready to fight? yup. i am now officially down to 7 painkillers. 7 more days where at least at bedtime i can be relatively pain free. after that i detox. that’ll give me about a week to get my stomach sorted so i can run my errands on the 1st.
oh and i made it. 45. (takes a bow)
i’ll be around. i just am weak, wobbly, shaky, nauseated and about 1/2 deaf from the fucking road construction. i need my rest for this. it ain’t gonna be pretty.