Today was a rough day.
I had 3 finals to take today, enough said. I thought I'd come home after overworking my brain chill out and get some rest. Wrong.
As a single woman with no children who works for peanuts, I do get food stamps every month to help with the necessities of you know FOOD. Well this past Friday I got a letter from Harrisburg telling me that my food stamps have been discontinued. The letter said they were stopping them because I did not fill out some form. This is somewhat true, but only because I NEVER RECEIVED YOUR STINKING FORM! My case worker is a joke. Before I bash him let me explain...Since I started school in October of last year I have been shuffled around to 4 different case workers. Now I'm not sure why, I'm a pretty cut and dry case. I only get food stamps, I do not get cash assistance or God forbid Medical assistance (because I make too much money, who knew $2.83 hour was too much) but I digress.
The past 3 workers were easy to get along with; they did their jobs and we never even had to meet face to face. This is so not the case with the current Mr. Martin. In the past month or so since he has been my worker I have not received my bus passes, my book reimbursement, and now my food stamps have been revoked.
I left school and immediately headed to the welfare office. Just what I did NOT want to do with my brain in the academic shape it was in at this point! I was handed a plastic square with the number 92 printed on it like I was at the deli counter ordering a pound of bologna. I navigate my way through the crowd of screaming children and distraught parents and find a seat in the swarm of people. I notice that the woman sitting next to me is holding a number card also so I glance down to see what number she is...65. You have got to be kidding me! I know I'm in for a long day and my plans of relaxation are shot to hell.
To make a very long story short, dear Mr. Martin did not send out the "form" in time and now because of his lack of worth ethic I have to resubmit all of the information again. GREAT. Now I am not destitute but to make my point I ask the man, "do you know of any good dumpsters around that I could maybe find dinner in?". He doesn't think I am funny. No Mr. Martin I am not being funny, I am being quite serious. I know these people are overworked and underpayed. I know that but everybody is suffering, and something should be done so that the truly destitute are able to enjoy the finer things in life like eating.