Losing Hope

Last week was the start of the application for public aid.  I did not want to fill it out.  I did not want to associate ourselves with the whole messy business of legally begging.

That is how twisted my thinking is.  I don't begrudge anyone help when they need it, but everyone knows the stigma attached to having that Link Card.  The judging of the items you're buying.  The looks you receive if you're not dressed like a fucking poor person.  I've seen and heard it all before.  Hell, I've even participated in it.  Peer pressure is a motherfucker.  Maybe this is Karma's way of getting me back.

Maybe I'm being too dramatic.  We probably won't qualify anyway.  As of right now, we're below the poverty level, but they are asking for pay stubs for the past two months.  Two months in which my husband was gainfully employed and making money that was above the poverty line.  I am supposed to take these and fifty million other documents to the appointment tomorrow.

The appointment.  What a joke.  I had questions that I needed answered.  I got the appointment letter on Saturday.  Knowing that they weren't open by the time I got that letter, I waited until this morning to call the local office.  The number was no longer in service.  What.  The.  Hell.  So I called the main help line.  Because everyone was busy, they automatically disconnect you instead of queuing up the calls.  So I emailed.  Nothing.  I tried the disconnected number again.  Got through......to a fucking voice mail.  I left a less than polite message.  Still nothing.  So tomorrow I trek down to the office and hope for the best.  I'm pretty sure I'm going to have to take deep cleansing breaths while waiting, lest I rip someone's head off.

This is just more stress on top of the stress pile I've already built up.  My husband is still working the part-time temp job.  No one else has called with magical job offers.  I went on an application spree two Sundays ago (after listening to some bullshit ass reaming that the in-laws laid down on my husband while Facetiming......seriously wanted to unhook the internet and I should have) and got one bite.  I have an interview on Wednesday.

And I'm scared shitless.  Since moving here, I have only had one other interview, and that was this past summer at a local produce store.  I flubbed that nicely because I cannot take the pressure of being so closely scrutinized and being asked direct questions.  This interview is going to involve improv and pointed questions.  It is a group interview.  My anxiety level is head explodingly high, and I feel like puking.  I just want Wednesday to come and go so I can get the failure out of the way.

There are so many other things I want to write, but I need to go shower and just try to calm down.  I was hoping that laying this out would help me some, but it is just making me feel even worse, so I'm going to stop before I give myself heart failure.