Still time for Harry Carry or lotsa cigarettes smoked, Still No Cancer? or Why the Gov't is Pissed I refuse all the above and yet doth Live on.

Okay, just a little over a day until The Meeting. Two big disappointments today: The lawyer did Not go to SS and look at my record. This was to give me a heads up on what they have on me. She was going to do this 'Gratis' so you don't have to be an accountant to see there was nothing in it for her in the first place. And she pretty much let me know that, when I asked when I could I expect my $35 back (the amount I paid to be recommended to her worthless ass and no I did not say that to her). That shocked her, I don't think anyone's asked for a refund before, but I wasn't going down without a fight. I'm gonna go down, sure, but I'm fighting it all the way, even though I feel less healthy every day. And yeah, Tart does take some pleasure in the fight, since that's all I've got.

Disappointment two: After manipulating the system, I finally got UT to call me, since she swore on her outgoing voicemail that she was out today, I immediately called the supervisor (11 years wading in bullshit allows me to know who that is by name) and explained my sad tale and that since my therapist is part-time I was sure she would not be in on Tuesday either and I would like to have some things out of my record, namely from 1996-1999, and I wondered if she could procure that for me. She was pleasant as usual and said she would call me back. Twenty minutes later, wouldn't you know it, UT was calling me!!! (Manipulation is all a part of the fight in this case. I love winning the little battles at this point.) My God that woman is more evasive than the lawyer, in terms of telling me that the record would not help (aren't you dying to know what's in there?), that she would be glad to write a letter but she can't use the word disability because County's term for that word and SS's is not the same. I'm thinking, "I don't give a crap if they coincide I want to use it the way me, her and the County think of it, but she was wily. I even got a, I only have 5 minutes here, Tart, so if you think of something in the next hour give me a call.

No record, as in no knowledge of what the hell is in store for me, and no record, UT won't give me what is mine, my 11 year long County record. Lazy f'n bastards. I wonder what would happen if it was their $20,000. Seriously.

Pity not, the Tart because I don't want to portray boo-hoo, I'd much rather kick ass, and I still am not sure what keeps me going sometimes. Being the beastly emotional creature that I am, I am left to try to analyze my emotions. I ask myself, "What do I feel?" or "What several emotions are happening?" I am amazed that the person with the mental health issues is being forced to defend herself, remember things from 10 years ago and be coherent and with no knowledge of what I'm really defending myself from, I believe Jimmy Stewart (Mr. Smith) would have some serious difficulties with this too. But I do have a force coming, Husband and my Mom. I think its safest to let them speak the most if I can get the evil eye off me and let them speak, for I have nothing but bile and anger over this whole thing. Husband's mom, (but not coming to this thing, oky?) get this, not only worked for SS but in the very same office, with the very same people. She knows Mrs. EyeFlutter! I can't recall it all, but she says under no circumstances give in and start talking how much money they can have. She also says this will probably haunt me until I actually start receiving retirement SS and this galls me so much. Seeing how long it takes them to process basic information one must ask themselves, "Are THEY mental midgets?" I am so angry that it overcomes fear (at least so far), because I just want to ask them if THIS is going to take another 10 years to process, and would they like me to help dislodge the thumb out of their their asshole?

So you see, I'm pretty consumed by this right now. Totally to be expected. Ever since I got the most recent letter in April it has all been building up to this. I have satisfaction in that I have not sat on my bottom and have tried to do something about it. I hate that I am given nothing to go on by the gov't, no scrap or clue on what the hell I can do to help myself. I hate this situation precisely because it seems to be pitting my intelligence, my main asset, against the illness and all of its legal blah blah, um not such an asset. By working I had hoped to beat the beast of my illness and the gov't legally begrudges me the chance it took me to discern that its not possible, at least not in the kind of world that exists in their minds. I'm not trying to wax poetic, I'm saying it like it is. What price working while disabled (yet with clear mind)? Apparently about 20,000.

Pray hard, Blogworld, 10 a.m. EST Wednesday, June 7. Don't let our government rape yet another innocent civilian. Mwanh!!