Social Security Disability (or, We're the Government and We're Here to Help You)

Well, I've gotten some paperwork from the Social Security Administration.

This is good.  They should be required to affix a warning label to this paperwork.  Something like "WARNING:   This paperwork may induce swearing, muttering, ranting, whining, and possibly excessive drooling."

I'm used to dealing with government agencies now.  I'm used to the idea that my paperwork has to reach them within 15 days (no matter what paperwork I have to send away for and wait for it to get to me first, and no matter how long it takes them to respond to anything I ask for).  And I'm used to the SSA asking for my SS number--after all, maybe they just want to make sure I know it.  But I'm sharing this with you (assuming anybody's actually reading this) because this pile of bullxxxx paperwork is special.  (I'm smiling sweetly but you can't see it.)

First, there is a cover sheet that says that a telephone conversation took place that never actually did.  Then a statement that I am not eligible for SSI because I have not applied for it.  But I did.  Five days ago.  Why else would they send me this pile of crap paperwork to fill out?  Maybe they've started sending these forms out at random and this is just a lucky coincidence.

But forget that last paragraph.  That was nothing.

This time they have a list of how much money I made at every place I ever worked.  I know because they sent it to me with the pile of horse manure forms.  What they want now is for me to fill out a form for each job.  For each place, they want the phone number.  And the fax number.  The date I started and the date I ended.  The rate of pay.  And all of my pay stubs.



Please understand.  I am (not too ashamed to admit it) forty-six years old.  My first job was in 1986.  Twenty-six years ago.  There were a couple of short-term jobs on that list they sent me that I had to think about before I even remembered having them.

Somewhere far away from here there just might be an elderly person (who desperately needs a date or something) who has a closet full of shoeboxes containing every single paystub they've ever received.  I have none.  Not a single paystub.  I haven't worked for fourteen years.  I've never considered myself to be an especially (or even adequately) organized person.  But I've somehow managed to throw out all my old paystubs.

Not to fear, though.  If I don't have the paystubs, I can give them the information--date earned and amount for each missing stub.  Apparently I could have been keeping this all in a little notebook somewhere, which at least would have had the virtue of taking up less space than all those shoeboxes.

Why, oh why, did I hesitate to file once again for Social Security?

Oh well, I've done my duty--filled out the shxx tonight, so I can stick it censored in the mailbox tomorrow, so it will hopefully get to the musn't forget my kids could read this SSA on time.

Wish me luck.