S'okay - some amazing breaks of luck, and I'm behind in telling the story of the shore (butt shorts rant included!) and the Magical DC Trip (tm) -- but then I got a sudden gift in the form of a free membership to WorldCon, and I got all excited. The loaner bike, the upcoming triathlon next weekend... things just kept breaking my way.
Well, we're all done with that! Today I called the Unemployment Compensation Office who sent me a nice letter that said I am "financially eligible for UC Benefits". Doesn't that sound an awful lot like, indeed, I'm going to get UC benefits? It did to me.
BUT - it turns out that "financially eligible" is not the same thing as "eligible". The woman at the office had a crowing note of triumph in her voice when she pointed out it said, "FINANCIALLY" eligible. Because that just means, "Yeah, you worthless proleteriat scum, we've determined you're actually out of work." But it doesn't mean you'll get unemployment.
And then she told me that I'm probably not eligible because Drexel is claiming they canned me for "poor work performance" which of course, contrasts with the story that I got from them. By default the State takes the word of the employer, however. Great - so now there's a dispute, and I have to prove my case, which means filling out questionaires, perhaps appearing in court, etc. Given the attitude of the vulture-woman who took great delight in my disappointment today, however, I'm guessing the State is firmly in the pocket of employers, and this whole protection of workers and caring about the citizenry is just so much hooey.
Let me just tell you - if I don't get unemployment, I'm well and truely ewedscray. I'm pretty well out of luck even WITH it, as it doesn't even come close to covering my bills - and you're only allowed to earn a pittance on top of unemployment. But without the bi-weekly money from UC benefits - I'll be homeless by the end of next month.
The entropy tides roll in, and they roll out. I'm driftwood, floating on the seas of fortune. And the seas are angry, my friend - angry like an old man returning soup at a deli! Good heavens, what am I going to do?
I've got a zillion things to do before leaving tonight. I really wanted to finish my story so I'd have something to show around at ConJose this weekend, and then sell my book and become a famous author, loved and admired by all. I was on a huge creative roll that past couple of days- but now the financial woes have just leached all the joy out of it, and I'm finding it hard to knuckle down and create.
Plus, I'm worried about leaving the cat alone for so long. And, I have to drive to the airport and park there, which will cost like $35.00 for the four days, since I'm leaving so early that the trains won't make it with enough time to check in -- and everyone has said "no" to cat-sitting for me, despite offers of bribes of high-speed internet access and HBO. (which won't last for long, if I don't get a freakin' job soon).
So much up in the air - I'm feeling very storm-tossed at the moment. Maybe even a bit battered. To borrow a phrase from Ms. Clover, "I'm feeling small, alone, and needy". I wish cats fit in pockets so at least I wouldn't have to worry about her. Of course, that would lead to all sorts of off-color jokes that no one needs...