The VA visited my bank account today.

"The VA visited my bank account today. They treated me very well (thank you LA/OC BAH).

I had originally planned to do a post today about how I've calmed down since last week. It would be my "grieving process" post, and I say grieving because I was scared shitless about how to pay bills when the money ran out. Yeah, well, when I got home from school today, Mrs. 13 ran up to me and hugged me and kissed me and told me I got laid. Paid. Paid. Money's in the bank. Got paid.

Sure enough, there it was.

So, back to the 5 steps of grieving.

1. Denial and Isolation: "Oh no the VA dih-unttt!"
2. Anger: "I want to punch the VA in the fucking throat!"
3. Bargaining: ...
4. Depression: "Well, there goes Christmas..."
5. Acceptance

I came to acceptance last night. I realized and understood just how seriously fucked the whole situation had become. Seriously, the VA had to hire to an outside private company to unfuck their shit. I realized there was nothing else I could do. It was out of my hands, and I could only simply wait and wait and wait. The government was good for it, right? "
Rucksack to Backpack