It's tough being an old idiot, with hands and a brain that don't work the way they used to. I've been waiting days now for a phone interview from the local Family Services, to happen this morning at 0820.
I'm trying to switch over to Medicaid, and get on Food Stamps. As embarrassing as that is to write, I have no fucking pride left, I'm just trying to survive.
This interview was the final step to make that happen, so I had all of my paperwork in front of me, as the call came in. The lady identified herself and I said good morning, as I switched my phone over to speaker mode.
The volume was low so I reached to the side of the phone to increase the volume, and hit the fucking Off button, which ended the call.
I waited a minute to see if she would call back, but why the hell should she after getting hung up on. No call, so I called them and talked to a lady who said she couldn't reconnect me, but could take the same information the interviewer would have asked. Who knows how that will affect the process.
Then I decided to take a long overdue shower, get into some street clothes, and walk to the Dollar Store later this morning for supplies. As the hot water flowed over my back, I realized it's been about eight years, or more, since I've had my back washed, and there is a wide area that my old arms can't reach.
Steph and I used to shower together every morning, before we went off to our respective jobs back in Idaho. Washing each others backs was always part of the process, and I used to wash her great tits from behind, which always started out my day nicely.
Now I'm sitting here crying, wondering how I could have fucked up my life so badly. But hey, maybe if I'm lucky I'll get on Food Stamps, and forget about ever having my back washed.