Sometimes I really wonder I get complacent, because right when I think everything is going relatively well, life hits me in the face with a flaming shitbag.
My job is going to hell. Before I left for Hawaii, my boss essentially told me I wasn't ever going to be anything but an RN II at my job. Basically, that means just a plain staff nurse, no leadership or anything like that. I can't really handle that, because I know I'm pretty good at my job and I'm a pretty good leader, too. So I started looking for other jobs. I don't really like the other hospitals in Ventura, so we started looking at moving North again. I got a recruitment from a big hospital in Montana, and it looked really good for awhile. We could actually afford to move and it'd be way less expensive; our kid wouldn't be an idiot SoCal native and I could get away from this jungle.
Well, not anymore. Today we got a letter from the State of Washington saying they're going to garnish Matt's wages because of a medical bill from six years ago. Y'know, the medical expenses from when he almost died.
What the fuck? I mean, pardon my language, but seriously: What the fuck? You can't pay a medical bill so here, we're going to take your paycheck? Do they even know or realize how bad we need that paycheck twice a month? It's not like we're down here rubbing elbows with movie stars and swimming in cement ponds. We're poor. Anywhere else in the nation, we'd be considered middle-to-upper class; in Southern California, we're poor. We have no possessions. We have no house, we have no stocks, we have no savings account. We have nothing, but that's okay because now the State of Washington found a way to subtract something from nothing. I applaud you, Evergreen State. Now, because of you I can't afford to move, I can't afford to stay here, and I'm not even sure I can afford to have my baby. Where am I supposed to let it sleep? In the crate with Moxie?
Sure, it's easy to blame it all on the State, but part of me knows that it's really my fault and Matt's fault, but when he told me he was paying the bills, I believed him. It doesn't matter. When you owe money, you're not a person and you don't have needs or a life; you're just a debt that has to be collected.
I thought that after yesterday, today could only be better; it was my own fault for thinking that.
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2 comments:
You probably aren't really seeking comments on this post if you are anything like me. It's just a place to vent. BUT, our share of medical debt from the last few years, and all the debt I forsee coming in the next few months, literally makes me almost vomit. It literally keeps me up at night. And we've had the debt collectors at 'our door' more than I am willing to admit. I hate money.
Oh Ger, you have no idea how close to home this hits. I so deeply feel for you and damn those collectors for keeping you there. I to believe Steve when he "pays" the bills, but am quickly jerked back into the realworld as I sit crapping in the dark in a toilet that won't flush. Why don't I just do the freaking bills?!!!
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