I received a letter from disability Tuesday afternoon after my nap.

I filled out the paperwork for my three-year redetermination with my mom’s assistance way back in April, so I assumed that this was finally their decision.


They need more information. They have questions regarding my medical care. They might even need me to see one of their special doctors again for another round of torture.


Not so funny, Mr. Wonka.


I have to yet again prove to them that I am not well enough to work. They don’t believe my own doctors, just like last time.

I need to call the lady by the 17th or I could lose my benefits. When I tried, her voicemail informed me that she would be out of the office until the 13th. So today starts my hounding the hell out of her.

Because I am so damned sensitive, I take this personally. I know it’s because of my young age and the fact that I have fibromyalgia. Although proven as a real disease, it’s still regarded by many as a bullshit diagnosis.

Why yes, I love not being able to work at the age of 42. It’s not like I had any plans for my life. No, I wasn’t thinking about going back to school to be a real chef.

I’m living the high life up in this bitch!! $807.00 is a mighty large sum of money to live off of every month!

But without it, I’d be living in a friends closet.

It appears that I will have to prove that I am indeed sick probably for the rest of my life.

Every three years.

My husband, mom, and my friends keep telling me to relax, that it’ll be okay. Just cooperate and all will be well.

Please send me good vibes and prayers that I “pass” the audition.