Crappy crappy crap crap

Dear Medicaid,

I know that you don't care that we are trying to fix our credit. I know you don't care that our business went south when Rick spent THREE MONTHS at Andrew's bedside. I know you don't care that this economy is very rough right now for ANY small business. You don't care that we have NINE people in a THREE-BEDROOM double-wide. All you care about is that I missed my review. You don't care that most people get to come to their review with their last two paychecks, and a social security card, while we need SIX MONTHS of financial statements because we are self-employed. You don't care that the work involved in filling out your application and getting all the financial paperwork involved for me is over 40 hours worth of work. You don't care that our tax guy avoided my phone calls. You don't care that I was trying to plan a wedding. You don't care that Rick is the executer of his mother's estate, which meant that I had to do endless hours of paperwork or he would be held IN CONTEMPT OF COURT. You don't care that everyday of raising SEVEN kids leaves me no time to even clean my house let alone try to print off the THOUSANDS of receipts that you want. You don't care that it is ILLEGAL for me to tell you our customer's information. I don't mind telling you how much they pay for their cars, but I REFUSE to give you their names. It is not right!

So thanks, thank-you for only going back to March in paying our bills. Even though I showed you the thousands of dollars in bills from Feb. when Andrew had his last MRI. Thanks alot. And now that will go on Rick's credit, because there is no way we can pay it. And now we will probably not be buying a house this year. Yes medicaid, i am blaming YOU! And I know that I procrastinated, but my God, life is hard, and I DON'T LIKE TO GO TO YOUR OFFICE! You treat me like a crack-whore, and the people in the waiting room stare at me, and I HATE YOU!!!

Sincerely,

Trailor Trash for another year

PS- Everything on my credit is medical, So I blame YOU for that last real-estate agent telling me that they couldn't even show me that house! F-You Medicaid! I wanted to see it. Even if there was no way I could even put in an offer, I just wanted to look at it, because sometimes I avoid my reality by PRETENDING we are actually house-hunting. And it is FUN! So screw you medicaid, screw you.