Archive for employment

Nothing. Matters.

Posted in depression, employment, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , on May 7, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I applied last week at the minimart here in Armpit cos he was needing someone to work 10 to 20 hours a week. Pays $9 per hour,cash. I hated the one gas station gig I ever had but I was willing to try.

Today I see he has hired two new ladies and is training them. That stung. So being blunt as I am I asked why he did not even give me a trial shift to see if I was hireable.

He was apologetic and explained, my theft charge appeared on my background check and corporate does not entrust handling cash to thieves. He was nice and professional bout it but it all boils down to the same thing.

I am unemployable. And everyone saying get a job and help yourself has no grasp on my reality.

I made one bad choice over 15 years ago. I did my legal atonement,I got help for my mental state,and I have NEVER taken anything again.

No matter. Can’t be a cashier. Cannot do anything in healthcare,daycare,schools. Even fast food wont have me.

My kid is never gonna get her summer vacation to Six Flags cos I fucked up years ago.

The world does not forgive or forget and when you are just trying to keep your kid fed,your cats free of fleas, and buy medications…to be so rejected time and again…

Nothing matters. Actually, a lot of stuff matters but right now, I can’t do a damn thing about it since you gotta get hired to hold a job and you can’t make them hire you. Now that I am demoralized and filled with self loathing, maybe I canĀ  go to bed. I took 100 mg Trazadone cos if I don’t get a few hours solid sleep, I am gonna lose my fucking mind from exhaustion. That isn’t whining, that is basic science. I need rest to recharge.

That matters. Sadly, it, too, is one more thing I seem to have absolutely no ability to help myself with.

paypal.me/MorgueAndSpook
================

https://www.gofundme.com/six-flags-for-summer-vacation

lifetouch

 

Advertisements

Wiped Out Wednesday

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , on April 17, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

So, on the sucky side…I had my dad on my step before 8 a.m. and he screamed at me because he had to knock twice before I answered my door. “Your house is on fire! It could be, no more attention than you pay to the door.” (I’ve asked and asked for a wireless doorbell for this reason, duh.) He was on my ass to get lawn mowed. I was still in my jammies. Then he volunteered my brother to help me which usually involves me reminding him not to lollygag. He did okay today, and I did 3/4 of the lawn on my own. Was still thankful for the help even if they didn’t do it out of kindness, they had to go out of town and didn’t want him sitting at home on the internet or game system.

I bathed.

I got a call.

It was the same woman from last night who I feared I had scorched earth with my meltdown. She asked me if I could come in at 1 p.m. for an interview today. I agreed, though that damn misdemeanor from 15 years ago on my record keeps screwing me over and it does hamper enthusiasm, on top of my own shame. (You cannot let go of past mistakes when the world won’t let you.) But even though it took me awhile to find as it was in a residential home 6 miles outside of town (15 miles from my house). I found it, didn’t even have a house number so I just guessed between the other house numbers on the mailboxes.

The interview went pretty well. She was laid back and seemed to forive me my trespass last night. She made it clear she can’t do anything for me until I get the state healthcare worker waiver which could take 4-6 weeks but if I get that done and headquarters okays it she said she’d let me get my feet wet as a sub for their regular workers so I could pick my hours and activity level. She was concerned about the panic attacks but I was just honest.

I came home feeling pretty pleased with myself.

Then my dad called and asked how it went and I told him…and he told me to move along, there HAS to be other jobs where my past doesn’t matter. UM, HUH???? I am making an effort and going with who calls me for interviews, ffs. Not to mention his woman isn’t even working part time and is always griping about needing money and she’s so bored just being a housewife…But she’s too good for Mickey D’s or any of the other places I am supposed to force people at gunpoint to interview and hire me. He’s such a hypocrite, but so typical of a narcissist. No matter how well I do, he is always there to shoot me down and remind me I need to do better. Why the rules are so different for his woman and their man child is beyond me. Hell, they let him keep every cent of his check, don’t even charge him for the $8 a day in gas it costs them to haul him back and forth to town. I’m raising a kid alone and I can’t catch a break.

Today he told me I can’t keep driving my car, safely, without 4 replacement tires due mine being dry rotted and about to blow at any time. And it’s like, wtf, with what money I’m just trying to keep the power bill on (try catching up with $870 dollars when your entire monthly income is only $835) and now I am stuck in Armpit because I can’t afford even half decent used tires…I can’t catch a break and every time we seem to get a little one, we get hit with another damn catastrophic expense.

I am exhausted. I need to just zone out, breathe, calm down. So that is what I am gonna do. I’ve earned it.

Gotta make you wonder about the donor not being able to find work for 7 months even with his background in management whereas I’ve at least had a few nibbles since I ventured outside applying only for jobs I have experience with. Methinks the man does not want a job because then he will be forced to support his kid. That is as low as it gets yet he says he’s a good man. Makes me wonder if his derangement is so extreme he needs hospitalized.

We’re still doing the fundraising thing (I’ve noticed the gofundme page says there’s been 0 shares, that’s brutal) but power, tires, and all this other crap…Gotta keep trying. It’s for a noble cause. I am trying to put my life back together.

The quickest option is, of course, our paypal account. (How well does Spook have me trained that so often I refer to everything as ‘ours’, not just ‘mine’?)

A million sporks of gratitude to everyone who has helped, spread the word, given us kind words of encouragement, even helped keep the cats fed and littered when I couldn’t…YOU GUYS ARE AWESOME AND WE LOVE YOU ALL.

Now this wicked woman is going to take a rest and shut off my brain for a bit while Spook is at her grandpa’s. I earned a zone out after all I have accomplished this week, and especially today.

Motionless In Fright

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , , on April 11, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

From the Motionless In White song “Voices”….

Voices, In my head again
Baiting me in a war I can’t win
I can hear them now
Trapped in a game inside my own skin
I don’t know myself anymore
They’re pulling me under
Voices, Voices

I had a ‘rip off the bandage’ mental state yesterday. Almost kind of a mania after being frozen motionless by panic and sheer terror. Then I was multitasking like a mofo, six open tabs, applying for jobs, on the phone with the insurance company about getting my kid a new primary care doctor…I took my ‘video’ interview for one position I applied for but I was so nervous I kept saying um to every automated question so I likely looked like a twitchy flake. Later in the day, I received a call setting up an interview Monday for part time in home care for the elderly but once my fingerprints are run, that’s out the window. The state laws allow my sister with multiple felonies to work in the field, but I have ONE misdemeanor and every damn time, it disqualifies me. (And get this, my fingerprints taken when I worked daycare AREN’T GOOD ENOUGH, there are more stringent rules regarding elderly care. wth?) BUT I AM TRYING, PEOPLE.

That is just one morning’s net working efforts, mind you. I am listed with four of the top job sites with resume on file and I apply on external websites, as well, and paper applications for the rare places that still accept them.

I got groceries yesterday, doing battle with panic rising in traffic, as if things are moving so fast that my brain cannot process it quickly enough to make the right choice whether to accelerate or stop… Then my kid came home and we had a two hour battle over her not wanting to wear a green shirt that previously she hadn’t minded. This time it enraged her to little hulk and I recorded the audio because I am tired of people thinking it has to be my fault. I did not raise my voice, did not strike her, did nothing but speak calmly but firmly and try to defuse things. By bedtime, she’d settled down but by then I’d caved on the shirt thing. I was never going to ‘punish’ her by making her wear it, I just wanted her to come to me and say, “Can we donate this, it doesn’t really fit me/not my style.” I want her to realize that the things we take for granted, even hand me down clothes, may benefit someone else so you can’t just throw everything not your style in the garbage….

Bedtime came and…I just couldn’t get my brain to slow down. When I did sleep finally, it was with at least half a dozen times of waking up. Happy is being able to go back to sleep. Unhappy is seeing you’ve hit the snooze button for the fifth time and now you HAVe to face the day. I am aching and my allergies have turned me into miss leaky snout, it is gray and damp and 20 degrees colder today than yesterday. I’m exhausted. I pushed myself on every front yesterday, facing down the panic, tuning out the voices in my head that make me feel full of shame and self loathing…

And I got this first thing this morning.

It will probably be another day before I get the paper disconnect which means I won’t be able to get into the assistance place til then, and they make you set up appointments which may come after the cut off date and are usually out of funds so…Yeah, we’re screwed.

And still Sunday I have to take my daughter to see her ‘dad’ who is living off a live in girlfriend completely and can’t even be bothered to go to the library to read the email she sent him and send a brief reply. He gets no responsibility, I get it all, and even his bad behavior still entitles him to his parental rights. The system is beyond broken.

This is what I looked like for my ‘virtual’ interview yesterday. Not spiffy but not haggish.

Today I look like something the cat horked up and my hair needs washed again and I am just…wiped out.

I know everyone is strapped for money or wary of internet people but I am providing you with all documentation proving everything I am saying is true. I have ONE FAVOR to ask of someone with a heart. Would anyone be able to send my daughter a ten dollar gift card for Dollar Tree for Easter? I am still digging change out of the car seat and gathering pennies to take to coin star in hopes I can get my water bill paid by the 19th and avoid the $18 late fee…Just a ten dollar gift card is all she asked for, really. I mean, she’s a kid so the mind changes by the minute and the “I want” monster spins up funnel clouds like the tasmanian devil in cartoons but…this one thing she wants is something I can’t give her. If you can’t or won’t help me…consider doing something nice for a 9 year old girl who really just wanted to go eat Kentucky Fried Chicken legs for Easter and spend a ten dollar gift card at Dollar Tree.

I am making every effort. So much so I am running all the fuel out of my car and my brain is boiling in my skull from being so overwhelmed.

But no one can say I am not trying with everything I have in spite of all that is working against me. I didn’t just give up and assume the fetal position. I am making every effort.

For the next hour or two, though, I am going back under Fort Blankie and I am going to focus on breathing exercises in an effort to clear my mind and calm myself. Before the voices pull me under and leave me motionless in fright.

I Really Need A Win

Posted in anxiety disorders, depression with tags , , , , , , on April 10, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

Today has been garbage. My brain is fried from submitting resumes and filling out endless applications and sitting through ‘click on the picture that represents you the most’ (for a sub shop sandwich artist position) then fretting because I picked animals and writing and artsy stuff as opposed to mechanical or math stuff and…My brain hurts.

My father informed me, while berating me for not having a job yet, that I can’t get a job yet because my front car tires are dry rotted and could blow at any time so before I go pounding the car on the interstate I need to replace those. And they will sell me the old ones off their SUV cos they are worn and they’re getting new ones, they should be good for a couple thousand more miles.

BUT I DON’T HAVE THE MONEY TO REPLACE THE DAMN TIRES.To which my idget father cockily said, sucks to be you. Then, don’t ask to borrow one of our cars, you still us three hundred bucks for the windshield you broke using it to move last year…

I’ve already gotten ‘thanks but no thanks’ rejections from several places and I gotta say, not even being considered worthy of making donuts and coffee kinda stings.

I need a win.

This whole thing with the donor and lawyer has me up in arms. I have heard nothing back, so I guess the lawyer doesn’t check email nor does the donor, and somehow this will all bite me on the ass but…I don’t trust myself speaking to that lawyer on the phone again. I tried that last night and once again, the number is to the ranch/restaurant place his parents home and his hard of hearing mom answers then can’t hear a word you say so you gotta keep repeating yourself and getting louder, then she puts you on hold, then says he isn’t there, then can you call back, god forbid you ask to leave a message. How is this remotely professional for a lawyer to not have a dedicated number and address for his legal practice? One more reason it is just difficult to take him seriously.

Today I needed $76 to maintain status quo on water, car insurance, and a couple of cheapo Easter gifts for my kid. Now I have the added strain of knowing my tires are so shot that my next trip to town for any reason could lead to a blowout but I can’t get money for the tires without a car to drive….

Remind me again how I am not on lockdown, medicated to the gills, because I feel I am losing my shit.

I just need a win.

For those interested…
My income is $832 a month.
Rent is $400
Water is $71
Power, at its lowest is around $180
car insurace is $80 a month
gas is $40 to get to town and back
pet supplies are $40

—–
That brings us to $811, and I’ve not even included laundry soap, dish soap, toilet paper, cleaning items, medication, personal hygiene items, etc.

This month to cover the renewal sticker for my car I let the internet go and use my phone data as a hotspot and had to pay car insurance from last month because I tried using some of that to pay toward the heat bill. Which meant that I couldn’t even come up with 25% down for a payment agreement with the power company and my deferred amounts are now part of the total balance before disconnection. I’ve been robbing Peter to pay Paul, shorting Paul to pay Peter’s shyster cousin…I do what I can when I can get it-walking dogs, babysitting, errands, housecleaning.

But those opportunities did not come my way.

So until I get a win on the job front, this impossible math is what is looming over my head day in and out. It is adding to my overall anxiety and panic and feeding the depression. So when I say we need help, well…you do the math yourself. What can I cut out of that aside from maybe getting rid of my cats and that’s not feasible as they are therapy pets for me. My phone plan is a $15 prepaid deal that rolls over, otherwise I wouldn’t even be able to swing it.

I just need a win.

Trying to support a kid here, not redecorate a bedroom or attend an out of state bachelor party.

And no matter your faith/belief system…Prayers can’t hurt. I personally have been praying to pegacorns and spaghetti monsters and God. I’d pray to a box of macaroni and cheese if I thought it would do any good.

We just need a win.

I’m ready for bed. Consciousness continues to become more agonizing than anything. And that just feeds my feelings of depression and self worth because I have a healthy beautiful kid and the world will tell you that since you have a kid, you don’t have the luxury of being depressed or needing help, your kid needs you, grow up.

Depression is just one of those disorders they need to simulate so non sufferers can take a walk in our shoes even by virtual reality programming. Once you’ve been on this side, you quickly do a facepalm and want to kick your own ass for being so judgey and ignorant.

***Author Post Edit***

We did not get in this situation through any fault of our own. The landlord sold our old place out from under us and we were forced to move in a hurry. This was the only landlord who would take partial deposit and first month and let us move in. At the time I signed up for internet, we were getting over $300 a month in child support. In September he quit paying after losing another job and that was the start of the problems. I am disabled and have been out of work a long time. I do not have a glowing history due to my mental instability. But I have been trying to find work to replace the missing income.

He is now over $4000 in arrears. He has an apartment, electricity, a car, but is reporting no employment nor filing any taxes. For 7 months now. The legal system does not care.

I tried to do the best I could witb what I have. This was never a case of getting in over my head purposely then whining about it. Frankly, I’d love nothing more than to move back to town where we could get income based rent but the waiting list is over a year long so until then, and of course, up front money…If we hadn’t been forced to move from our former home of 9 years where I could swing all the bills on my income alone…we would not be here now.

We’re in hellish limbo.

And needing a win is not asking for too much.

 

Unemployable-stick a fork in me, my self confidence is done

Posted in depression, employment with tags , , , , , , on March 14, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

I did not think it could get worse, but ha, it did. And I predicted it a couple weeks back. My special ed 23 year old brother who can’t even scrub the moss off his teeth…just got hired by McDonald’s. A place that wouldn’t even grant me an interview once I honestly answered that I am not a fast learner or fast worker. He moves at the speed of sludge, with an IQ to match, and while this may sound like immature sour grapes…it’s not. He’s a misogynistic racist just like our dear old dad and has the people skills of a KKK member. I guess if you’re a fast learner, fast worker, and don’t have to fret scheduling because you have a kid and childcare for one day costs more than part time gigs pay per day…

I am frustrated. I did not want to work at McDonald’s, I freak out just going in there to eat. It’s pure madness and chaos and noise and people and of course, that is everything that makes me come flying apart. BUT I wanted to at least be considered for one day a week during off hours while Spook was in school. Not that $24 before taxes would help us recoup the cost of gas, let alone get caught up on our bills, but I was willing to TRY. And for being honest, I get stuck in The Loser Corner. I am trying to be happy for me, a bit bummed for me, but hold my head up and just keep fighting and trying.

But really…how awful must I be that even McDonald’s rejects me as a possibility? I know I clean up better than him, I am way friendlier than him, and I have restaurant experience even if from 20 years ago…My confidence is deeply wounded. I guess I am lashing out. And truth be told,short of working from home in my safety zone where I can better manage my chaos…I don’t feel prepared to go back into the rat race of a workforce. I just don’t seem to have any choice since the state has no interest in going after the useless donor.

Okay, it’s not his fault that we had to move, or that our bills doubled, but it damn sure is his fault for jerking us around the last three years with now he’s paying, now he’s not, and we never get a head’s up that we’re losing the income…

I need to lick my wounds a bit. And then apply some strong Teflon coated salve because I know my dad will soon be calling to tout the man child as the best thing since tapioca since he got a job. He can work two months a year, pay no rent, do no chores, and they still think he’s the second coming. Whereas I am just a lowly self pitying unemployable loser. He is so fucking impaired, they won’t even let him drive himself to work during the day, they take him to town, then go and fetch him cos he’s a horrid driver. My God, I think I’d be less insulted if I was passed over for at least an interview by Grimace and the fry guys.

It’s just ego. I am writing again, I am making the efforts to do whatever I can, I am clinging to the cliff by my fingernails because I damn well know I am a decent person, I am fairly bright, and I rock the casbah with creativity when I am not blocked, and my motivation is TO SUPPORT MY CHILD WITHOUT HAVING A NERVOUS BREAKDOWN. Much like the doctors, I just need to find the right fit that helps me flourish instead of flourder or fail.

What I don’t have is time while I hunt down this pegacorn. My kid’s I want monster is like living with my own personal attendant to beat me down daily and remind me how inadequate a provider I am. Because I am not painfully aware already. What was it said in an earlier post about life being a lot like when a bitter pill gets stuck in your throat?

Tonight I shall put salve on my ego and recuperate and start anew tomorrow. IF my mental health cooperates. I will also be posting a new short story on my Cryptic Verse blog so keep an eye out for that if that sort of thing appeals to you.

How Employers Fail The Mentally Ill

Posted in mental health, Mental Health Disability with tags , , , , , on January 13, 2019 by morgueticiaatoms

For those who think it is easy to obtain disability pay for mental health issues, you are very wrong. It is a grueling process that takes years for many of us fighting to get it. During these years, we keep trying to work at positions that trigger our illnesses and worsen our conditions. We burn bridges with out failures, we lose friendships, relationships, rack up bad references and a reputation for being ‘flaky’. No sooner than we hit a solid patch, we can backslide in a few weeks’ time. This DOES make us seem like less worthy candidates for many jobs.

But unlike laws that protect the physically disabled from discrimination and employers are required to accommodate their disabilities, the mentally ill are protected only in theory. In practice, we are often shunned because of our checkered pasts. Instead of an employer seeing a slew of jobs as you continuing to try to support yourself, they just see someone who can’t keep a job. If you fall into depressions and stop bathing (as I have currently) and your only true joy is sleep…You are perceived as weak and lazy. I am anything but. I have been fighting to raise a small child on my own for 7 years while her father gets away with spotty child support that often leaves us in the lurch. I am bounced around my psych practice to providers varying in competence, few of whom are really invested in my mental health. I am constantly facing unexpected expenses and I try to play to my strengths and seek what I perceive as ‘possibly doable’ jobs. Babysitter, dogwalker, light housekeeping, secret shopper, virtual assistant, proof reader. I WANT TO WORK.

At the same time, I can’t deny my limitations and pretend everything is okay. It is not. I can’t even get a good reference from friends and family because they think I am unreliable and they’re not entirely wrong. But since much of my disability stems from trying to interact with my mental illness in situations that I can’t even manage for basic functioning or enjoyment, I am almost doomed from go to fail. People trigger me. Crowds trigger me. My anxiety makes me twitchy and paranoid and sometimes, my brain convinces me that if I don’t cuss and scream, my brain will claw its way out of my skull. I cease rational thought in these situations and it happens over and over. I’ve put in 30 years of counseling. I have tried every med known to man. I bully myself, I pep talk myself. My disability simply isn’t going to go away nor will I ‘snap out of it.’

I accept this. Others do not.

How wasy it is for them to think me lazy or weak. How common to not be given an opportunity to prove yourself because your past is so unstable and you can’t look someone in the eye and say much has changed. You want to work, to earn your keep, but you’ve grown wise enough to know what simply pushes your boundaries and leads to breakdowns. So where does that leave me?

Working from home by computer, ideally. But most of those jobs are scams or require some sort of degree and familiarity with software I can’t even afford, so again…I pawn off what I can, I have fundraisers, I offer to cook a meal or do someone’s dishes. I am TRYING everything I know to makes ends meet. I can’t even get a call back from a place where all I’d have to do is wear a ridiculous costume, stand in the cold, and wave at people. I don’t think I’d be very good at it because I have a perpetual ‘fuck off and die’ look on my face when ‘out there’, it is all terrifying and frightening so the porcupine quills come out whether I want them to or not. But to not even get a call for an interview, Geesh. I know I brought it on myself, but hey, if I had been granted disability sooner, I wouldn’t have burned every employment bridge in this small area.

You have to be given an opportunity to earn your keep. Until that happens…you’re really at the mercy of fate. And no one cares if your intentions and motivations are pure. I would likely flourish working from home in some capacity but those jobs just aren’t plentiful or realistic, I am told. So I keep trying to live in the ‘stable world’ even though I am far from stable and get nowhere in those pursuits. At this point, I’d do creepy fetish porn if I thought someone was paying for it.

So before you dismiss the mentally disabled, before you deem us lazy or weak or unwilling to work…View us as you’d be required, by law, and morality, and decency, to view someone with a physical disability. Someone with a cane is obviously not going to be able to wait tables and move quickly and carry trays of heavy food but they might make a good greeter or sorter or even dishwasher. You just have to be willing to find a position that their disability and limitations don’t exclude.

For me, anything outside my safe space is at the moment beyond my capabilities and still, I am making the effort to try and get one of those jobs. Yet if someone would give me the opportunity to do some sort of work from my safe space, at my own pace…I’d probably excel and flourish instead of languish or crash and burn.

I just need a chance.

Employers need to stop, intentionally or unintentionally, counting out the mentally ill when in fact, we’re capable of quite a bit if you play to our strengths instead of expecting us to suddenly overcome lifelong limitations.

Finding a way to support yourself that does not drive you to a breakdown shouldn’t be a luxury or lottery winning. It should be common sense. And there should be far more employers out there offering this type of work for the mentally disabled.

You want to preach about teaching men to fish as opposed to just giving them a fish, but you don’t want to give lessons. That is illogical to a degree even I can discern.

Why Some Have Fundraisers? Because you can’t put a gun to someone’s head to hire you!

Posted in depression, fundraiser with tags , , , , , , , , , on October 9, 2018 by morgueticiaatoms

I was listening to the radio this morning and they were talking about all the scammers out there ripping people off and it turned my stomach. But that was going on long before there ever was an internet,sadly. It is a vile aspect of human nature that many have no conscience and will take the last dime from an elderly woman or a morsel of cookie from the mouth of a toddler. Because of assholes like that, the people like me and Spook who are only asking for help because the law favors deadbeats who don’t pay their court ordered child support, are the ones who get ignored and left to lose what little we have and go hungry.

It’s not a sob story. It’s our life. And while I get people’s reticence to donate because it ‘could be’ some elaborate scheme…I really wish I could give you all a look into our living situation. We live in a house so old, it has skeleton keyholes on the door lock and one electric out in the living room and bedrooms. The carpet is comprised of cheap remnant squares so when I vacuum I end up having to put them back into place. We have a bathtub with a sink faucet so we can’t even attach a shower sprayer. We drive a 2001 car that cost $450 at an auction my dad got it from. This laptop I am writing on this moment? It was a freebie someone left behind at the shop when I was being R’s marionette and my nephew got it working for me. Both of our LCD tvs? Bought used for $110 total a couple years back.

And don’t get me wrong, we are happy to have as much as we do cos it’s more than many have, but it kind of says that we’re not lap of luxury scammer types. I have no intention of letting the donor get out of paying support but the law is on his side in how much time he has to find a job, how long before he has to start paying, and with holidays and winter heat bills coming…I’m terrified. The only thing I have been able to take pride in is that since he walked out 7 years ago, I’ve kept a roof over my kid’s head and the power on. And I did it mostly without ever having to have a fundraiser unless it was unexpected thing like car breakdown, cat illness, or bug infestation.

When we were forced to move, though, we picked up expenses we didn’t have in the trailer park. Water and sewer and trash, which sucks up what little cushion I had without child support. Not to mention gas because now it’s a 20 miles trip to town and back for appointments and grocieres. I purposely stayed in that nasty trailer park where the furnace was broken more than it worked because I knew if the donor ditched out on paying, I could manage the monthly bills, just barely. This move was not our idea, and a raise in expenses was not what we wanted. Originally the place we found was $50 less in rent so I’d have been able to swing it. Unfortunately, it wasn’t until moving day that we learned the elderly landlord had already rented that place to someone else cos he forgot he rented it to us and we got stuck with, yes a bigger place and house, no less, but higher rent and expenses. Believe me, this was not what I wanted, it was just necessity.

Since the move, I have tried to offer up my services as a babysitter, dogwalker, someone to clean house or run errands. I tried the rural gas stations. The only reason I could get pet supplies is that my stepmom and my dad let me do some dishes and fill out mileage reports for extra cash but when harvest ends, they won’t have the excess income to do that so it’s not a lock. I even tried submitting for a writing position in a local freebie rag and was rejected. We had a yard sale and made less than $8.

The fact is, YOU CANNOT PUT A GUN TO AN EMPLOYER’S HEAD AND SAY, ‘I WANT TO WORK, HIRE ME NOW!’

That has always been the infuriating thing for me, especially in a rural area where jobs are scarce. If there are 2 positions open and 300 people apply…it’s a safe bet the disabled person with an unstable work history is not going to be in demand. And since we moved to Armpit, the fact is, this is a closeknit country community and Spook and I are outsiders. I think you have to be a natural born redneck and live here ten years before they start viewing you as anything else. And because of my anxiety and mood issues, any work I do first will need the doctor to sign off so I need something off the books cos ain’t no way the doctors-any of them- will guarantee my stability since I’ve had such a bad year with medication and stuff.

So, oh wise ‘get a job’ people…Please do tell me the magic secret.

Or…be a decent human being and just visit the campaign, read our story, click the share button. Donate $5. Don’t want to do cash? Drop me a message and ask what we need, you can have it sent to directly to us unless of course, you think cat food and toilet paper and dish soap are items that make us scammers.

I have nothing to offer right now but words and the fact this blog has been here 7 years and the story never changes because the truth never changes.

On second thought…how about pics of our adorable kittens if for no other reason than the cuteness makes you go awwwwwww. Kitten pics are a popular thing, right?


That is Spook with Pandora.


Spook with Enderman (she named it, some Minecraft thing.)


This is Heathen.


And this is Lacuna.

We took in the mama cat, Tabbytha, after her owner left her outdoors in 95 degree heat for over a week without food or water. My sister rescued pregnant Tabby and tried to place her elsewhere but even the no kill shelter was full. I didn’t have the heart to let her go to the pound so Spook and I took her in and 3 days later she had those adorable babes.

Taking in pregnant cats doesn’t sound like something a heartless scammer would do, does it?

Oh, damn. I just realized- I was in a psych ward so by state law I can never legally own a gun therefore…I can’t hold a gun to an employer’s head.

C’mon, guys. I am TRYING.

Everything I do is for my kid and cats.

I’m batty for them.