May 21 2005
there’s rock bottom, then there’s fifty feet of crap, and then there’s me
This afternoon, I got home from running some errands, and discovered that I had a letter from the lawyer of Mrs. Cletus advising me to turn said letter over to my insurance carrier. Considering what completely useless bastards the people handling my insurance claim so far have been, I feel as though I’m probably, oh… what’s the word I’m looking for here? Ah, yes. Fucked.
Personally, I think it’s stupendous that even though I can barely pay my own bills, I’ll probably get to pay Mrs. Cletus’s bills too. Since having full coverage on your car doesn’t mean that you’re entitled to insurance benefits when you need them. Apparently. Whatever. Being broke builds character. Or something.
Hurrah.
Anyway, I’ll probably be having a bake sale pretty soon so that I can finance my existence. Anybody want to make brownies?
A note on comments: not that I’m expecting you to say anything, but if you do, I figure you should know that they’re now moderated. I’d tell you why, but it’s not even a good story. Suffice it to say that if you do comment, it’ll show up eventually, provided, of course, that you’re not an asshole.
