A quick catch-up for the random international readers I seem to have:
My dear mother bought a home in a small town to live in with my younger brother and I (in this economy, it's an arrangement that has suited us fine in other places). My homeless sister and her four children moved into the basement apartment.
Right before Christmas, my older brother and his fiancee and her two children moved in to get away from an unhealthy situation and squeezed into the basement until we could make room for mattresses and sleeping bags in our living room, which had been holding unsorted moving boxes and still does.
Now they are settled in there with wall-to-wall belongings and I don't need to go into detail about the rest of our shared space.
Well, I finally found a job that I could be in long-term. So I reported the income change to a local agency which provides me with funds for groceries and very basic health care coverage, resulting in those things being taken away because my employer reported that I make a lot more money than I actually do. It's been over a month since that trouble started and I'm still trying to fix it.
In addition, a licensing fee that I'm not responsible for paying was deducted from my paycheck a few weeks ago. When I checked my payslip today to see how much to expect in my account I noticed that I'm not getting payed for last week because for some reason I had to approve my hours again after my manager did and I didn't do that by the payroll deadline.
All of this while I'm recovering from being hit by a car while crossing the street to get to work two days ago. My manager is demanding to know when I'll be able to come back to work and that I bring a doctor's note when I do.
I don't fucking know when I'll be back. I can't do the tasks that my job requires right now. Moving my dominant arm HURTS. I can't wash my hair or dress properly or put together meals.
Nobody's fucking grateful for anything I do and it's never enough. And when I'm moody, there's something wrong with ME.
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