Ugh.
So last night I went out with my husband to dual birthday party for a couple ladies we know.
I so did not want to go. I don't feel fit for social gatherings. I'm the size of a house, I hate it, it shows, and I know I get judged for it. I'm shy to begin with, but now, with my size and my long break from anything like a 'normal' life, I don't have fuck all to talk to folks about. Awkward. I am painfully socially awkward.
What do I mean by normal life? I mean a job, employment. Regular social engagements. That sort of thing. I don't have any of that.
I don't work. I can't work. But other than being the size of a house, I don't look sick. I don't look disabled. Hell, even my like 65+ yr old teacher at UofT asked me the first chance she got me in private if I really couldn't work. We had to introduce ourselves in the first class. I mentioned I was disabled and couldn't work due to chronic illness. If she doesn't even believe me, then how can I expect perfectly healthy young people to?
I don't have anything in common with them. They all work, they all lead full lives. I lead the life of a recluse, a social outcast, a hermit. Even my own parents are shocked by the....isolation in my life. I've gotten used to it. It's not so bad. I've always had hermit tendencies. Without...close friends or any reason (like work) to interact with others.. I don't really. I don't even know how I'd do it in my state.
I'm fat, useless, boring, old, awkward, and just plain miserable. I do not have anything to offer.
So I spent most of my night sitting in the corner of the couch, with a fake smile plastered to my face, saying very little. I was incapable of chitchat. I didn't want to be so fucking silent, but I couldn't think of a damn thing to say.
It's not like anything really interesting happens in my life. I just... I didn't know what to say. Half the time I knew some people just never liked talking to me anyway, so I didn't bother to make an effort. Other people I so very much wanted to say something, anything that would be interesting or engaging or something... But I just.. I blanked. When I did say something, It... I should have just kept my fucking mouth shut.
I was so fucking self conscious I wanted to burrow into the couch and just be invisible. I did not want to be seen.
I mean, if my own doctor, who bloody well knows what kind of chronic pain, exhaustion, and social anxiety I live with tells me I'm fat because I'm lazy.... How can I expect perfect strangers to understand?
I just. I hate meeting new people. What's the first thing some asks? So, what do you do? I don't. I can't work due to chronic illness. That sure puts a stop in the conversation! Then they feel guilty, awkward, forced to console me, and ask about it. Then they hurry away as fast as they can. I'm a fucking social leper.
I don't know anything about corporate life. I barely even remember what it was like to work with people. I'm a fucking housewife. With no children. Who does a really shitty job at you know, keeping the place clean. I'm a waste of space, and I know it.
"Are you sure you can't work?" "So you can't work at all?" "There are lots of temp jobs" "Couldn't you do freelance?" Yeah, with what freaking credentials!? I mean, besides my physical limitations, I was a secretary, an office manager, a jack of all trades, but I don't have credentials for any of it. And it was so long ago, I don't know if I could do a lot of it now anyway. I mean, my last full time job was FIVE years ago. Ugh.
I couldn't do 8 hour days. Not even 8 days a week. I'm that fucked up. But I don't look it. So people always ask. They don't realize, that that outing, the bit where I'm being social or am in school, that's my activity for the day, and in all likelihood it will take me 2-3 days to recover from it.
*sigh*
I just.... I want the ground to swallow me up. I want to sleep and never wake up. I want an easy way out of this mess. Perhaps my doctor is right, and I'm a fat useless fuck because I'm just too gods damn weak-willed and plain old lazy. Yup. That's about right.
Sunday, April 29, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
Baby Blanket Progress And Life.
I can't show you the baby blanket, because it's a gift, and I want it to be, mostly a surprise for the mom. But it's coming along! I have actually finished the knitting, after like 10-12 days of straight knitting. We're talking 40+ hours of knitting my fingers off.
Much to my dismay, when I finally got it off my needles... it wasn't square. I did the add two stitches every other row, like the instructions I found for corners told me to.. I'm thinking it might have been better to add two stitches every row... But once I was done, there is no way in hell I was ripping out 40 hours of work!!
So. Acylic..... You can't really block it. Not the traditional way, washing and pinning, it will just jump back to it's pre-washing state. And besides, baby blanket, it's going to get washed, and mom is not about to block the dang thing.
SO! I 'killed' the two bottom boarders. Killing, really isn't as bad as it sounds, you just have to be careful! For instance, leave garter stitch alone as much as you can, as you will flatten it, and it will look...not great. The flat patterned parts stretched really well, overall, and it flattened out the elephants and loins really well, so yay! I did accidentally catch part of a garter stitch ridge in a few places, but I didn't flatten it too too badly.
This entire blanket had been a lesson in imperfection for me. I'm a perfectionist. I can't seem to help myself. But, in making this blanket, I've learned to weigh 'time to fix' vs 'who other than me will notice'. As a result, I've left a few errors that I didn't think were super obvious, left some things alone or did them quickly, when I otherwise would have spent hours upon hours trying to fix.
In the end, the blanket is lovely, and once I get the dang backing on it, will be a lovely edition to a baby's life; imperfections and all. It has character damnit.
On another note, sitting for like 12-16 hours a day knitting, is actually really hard on my body, and I've been crazy stiff and sore for the last two weeks. This week I've also been battling crazy nausea. I've been eating lots of candied ginger, which usually helps, with no avail. I've been fighting with all I have to do what little I've done.
Monday I worked for about five hours straight on the backing and trying to pin it to the knitted blanket. This was before I blocked the blanket. What a mess. And I messed up cutting the backing and ended up making a lot of work for myself. Oh well, that's life.
Made for a very frustrating day. So much work, with so little to show for it. All the while battling enough pain to make me dizzy when I moved too quickly. Fuck it was a hard day.
Yesterday was better. If for no other reason my class distracted me from my pain. But as soon as I left I realised my jaw was in grave pain - I'd been clenching my teeth to combat the pain. I even went to the grocery store. But I didn't have the energy to work on my blanket last night. Every time I moved I was overcome with nausea, and had to sit my fat ass down again.
That's been today. Pain and nausea warring for control over me. Right now the pain is winning and the nausea is more in the background. Which means, I've been able to at least iron down the edges of the backing, which will make it much easier to sew when I get there.
Feeling sorry for myself. Or.. Well... Disappointed in myself is more accurate. I fate being this size. I really do. If I think too hard on it, I get a panic attack. And yet I can't seem to control myself. I have no discipline. I can't resist chocolate, or.... giving in when I'm having a bad day. It's so bloody hard. Food has become my comfort, my balm when I'm in pain. And I don't know how to control it, never mind fix it.
I think about women like Laurell K Hamilton. She's been writing since her early twenties I think. She wanted to be a writer, and by gods, she has worked her ass off to get there, regardless of having a day job, a husband, a failing marriage, a baby, or anything else that's been thrown at her. Still she finds time to write. Still she finds her muse, and fights for what she wants. Even if I'm not the biggest fan of everything she's written her drive is awe inspiring.
I don't have that. I know I don't. I always have an excuse for everything. The only thing I've ever been able to ALWAYS make time for is knitting. I would likely knit in my sleep, if I could figure out a way to do it. I love to knit. It's to the point I just can't sit and watch a movie or tv. I can't. Not without something in my hands, not without some kind of knitting.
But I'm not The Yarn Harlot either. I'm not funny. I can't tell stories about knitting. I so can't write that sort of thing... it's not in my make-up. Besides, my knitting isn't pretty - the process that is. There's a lot of planning, math, calculator and pencil, graph paper, humming and hawing, and through, always the cursing. I curse like a sailor. If I drop a stitch (rare), or mess up a row (not so rare), or if I don't like the pattern I've chosen (often), or if I'm doing the math, and have to figure out increases and decreases, I curse. My husband is used to me muttering and cursing as I work. He worries more when I'm quiet. lol.
And now, I've used all the energy I had. The pain is taking over my brain, and I can't put the words together to say what I wanted to say. Damnit.
Living like this is really lonely. I mean, aside from the reality that I spend most of my days alone, and my nights across the room from my husband, not really conversing.... It's the knowledge that 99% of the people I know, don't have a fucking clue how hard my life is. I know in so many ways I'm lucky. Things really could be a lot worse. At the same time, my life sure as fuck isn't all sunshine and roses.
The pain eats at me. The nausea binds me to the spot. The stiffness makes me feel like I'm 100 years old. I visit my parents, who are really my grandparents both around80-ish, and both of them are more spry than I am. Both of them do more, are more ambitious, than I've been in a long ass time. I wish I was more like them. They can't sit still, they can't do nothing. The push. They do. They have gumption, drive, follow-through.
I've always been naturally lazy. I actually do like, for the most part, sitting and watching a good movie, or reading a good book. I like sleeping in. I like slow, lazy days.
My fibromyalgia forces me to take it slow, to sit around and do fuck all. And I hate it. Yet I rarely push past the pain. Most days, the pain wins. I crumble.
I feel so fucking weak. Touch my shoulders and hips, even lightly in certain spots and I'll scream in pain. I ache, all the way through me, and there isn't a fucking thing wrong with me. It's all in my head. Literally. Fucking FMS.
I.... Ugh. I feel like, if it was my mom who had this, she'd push. Even at 78, she'd push and do and be active, and live her life. She's lived with pain all her life too. But unlike me, she almost never complains, and very rarely ever lets it slow her down. I wish I could be like that. I wish I knew her secret. I just don't have that in me.
I'm disgusted with myself. On so many levels. Disease or not, I'm a disappointment. So many others have what I have, and yet they work full time jobs, they have kids, husbands, houses to clean, and they do it all. Somehow, the do it all. Me, I just.. I don't have that in me.
I wish I had that strength of character. I wish I had discipline and control. I don't. No matter how I try... I'm just... I'm not that kind of person. Ugh.
I don't.. I don't know how to fix this. I try. Gods know I try. But I just don't seem to have it in me. Makes me...disgusted with myself. I'll never be strong enough.
Much to my dismay, when I finally got it off my needles... it wasn't square. I did the add two stitches every other row, like the instructions I found for corners told me to.. I'm thinking it might have been better to add two stitches every row... But once I was done, there is no way in hell I was ripping out 40 hours of work!!
So. Acylic..... You can't really block it. Not the traditional way, washing and pinning, it will just jump back to it's pre-washing state. And besides, baby blanket, it's going to get washed, and mom is not about to block the dang thing.
SO! I 'killed' the two bottom boarders. Killing, really isn't as bad as it sounds, you just have to be careful! For instance, leave garter stitch alone as much as you can, as you will flatten it, and it will look...not great. The flat patterned parts stretched really well, overall, and it flattened out the elephants and loins really well, so yay! I did accidentally catch part of a garter stitch ridge in a few places, but I didn't flatten it too too badly.
This entire blanket had been a lesson in imperfection for me. I'm a perfectionist. I can't seem to help myself. But, in making this blanket, I've learned to weigh 'time to fix' vs 'who other than me will notice'. As a result, I've left a few errors that I didn't think were super obvious, left some things alone or did them quickly, when I otherwise would have spent hours upon hours trying to fix.
In the end, the blanket is lovely, and once I get the dang backing on it, will be a lovely edition to a baby's life; imperfections and all. It has character damnit.
On another note, sitting for like 12-16 hours a day knitting, is actually really hard on my body, and I've been crazy stiff and sore for the last two weeks. This week I've also been battling crazy nausea. I've been eating lots of candied ginger, which usually helps, with no avail. I've been fighting with all I have to do what little I've done.
Monday I worked for about five hours straight on the backing and trying to pin it to the knitted blanket. This was before I blocked the blanket. What a mess. And I messed up cutting the backing and ended up making a lot of work for myself. Oh well, that's life.
Made for a very frustrating day. So much work, with so little to show for it. All the while battling enough pain to make me dizzy when I moved too quickly. Fuck it was a hard day.
Yesterday was better. If for no other reason my class distracted me from my pain. But as soon as I left I realised my jaw was in grave pain - I'd been clenching my teeth to combat the pain. I even went to the grocery store. But I didn't have the energy to work on my blanket last night. Every time I moved I was overcome with nausea, and had to sit my fat ass down again.
That's been today. Pain and nausea warring for control over me. Right now the pain is winning and the nausea is more in the background. Which means, I've been able to at least iron down the edges of the backing, which will make it much easier to sew when I get there.
Feeling sorry for myself. Or.. Well... Disappointed in myself is more accurate. I fate being this size. I really do. If I think too hard on it, I get a panic attack. And yet I can't seem to control myself. I have no discipline. I can't resist chocolate, or.... giving in when I'm having a bad day. It's so bloody hard. Food has become my comfort, my balm when I'm in pain. And I don't know how to control it, never mind fix it.
I think about women like Laurell K Hamilton. She's been writing since her early twenties I think. She wanted to be a writer, and by gods, she has worked her ass off to get there, regardless of having a day job, a husband, a failing marriage, a baby, or anything else that's been thrown at her. Still she finds time to write. Still she finds her muse, and fights for what she wants. Even if I'm not the biggest fan of everything she's written her drive is awe inspiring.
I don't have that. I know I don't. I always have an excuse for everything. The only thing I've ever been able to ALWAYS make time for is knitting. I would likely knit in my sleep, if I could figure out a way to do it. I love to knit. It's to the point I just can't sit and watch a movie or tv. I can't. Not without something in my hands, not without some kind of knitting.
But I'm not The Yarn Harlot either. I'm not funny. I can't tell stories about knitting. I so can't write that sort of thing... it's not in my make-up. Besides, my knitting isn't pretty - the process that is. There's a lot of planning, math, calculator and pencil, graph paper, humming and hawing, and through, always the cursing. I curse like a sailor. If I drop a stitch (rare), or mess up a row (not so rare), or if I don't like the pattern I've chosen (often), or if I'm doing the math, and have to figure out increases and decreases, I curse. My husband is used to me muttering and cursing as I work. He worries more when I'm quiet. lol.
And now, I've used all the energy I had. The pain is taking over my brain, and I can't put the words together to say what I wanted to say. Damnit.
Living like this is really lonely. I mean, aside from the reality that I spend most of my days alone, and my nights across the room from my husband, not really conversing.... It's the knowledge that 99% of the people I know, don't have a fucking clue how hard my life is. I know in so many ways I'm lucky. Things really could be a lot worse. At the same time, my life sure as fuck isn't all sunshine and roses.
The pain eats at me. The nausea binds me to the spot. The stiffness makes me feel like I'm 100 years old. I visit my parents, who are really my grandparents both around80-ish, and both of them are more spry than I am. Both of them do more, are more ambitious, than I've been in a long ass time. I wish I was more like them. They can't sit still, they can't do nothing. The push. They do. They have gumption, drive, follow-through.
I've always been naturally lazy. I actually do like, for the most part, sitting and watching a good movie, or reading a good book. I like sleeping in. I like slow, lazy days.
My fibromyalgia forces me to take it slow, to sit around and do fuck all. And I hate it. Yet I rarely push past the pain. Most days, the pain wins. I crumble.
I feel so fucking weak. Touch my shoulders and hips, even lightly in certain spots and I'll scream in pain. I ache, all the way through me, and there isn't a fucking thing wrong with me. It's all in my head. Literally. Fucking FMS.
I.... Ugh. I feel like, if it was my mom who had this, she'd push. Even at 78, she'd push and do and be active, and live her life. She's lived with pain all her life too. But unlike me, she almost never complains, and very rarely ever lets it slow her down. I wish I could be like that. I wish I knew her secret. I just don't have that in me.
I'm disgusted with myself. On so many levels. Disease or not, I'm a disappointment. So many others have what I have, and yet they work full time jobs, they have kids, husbands, houses to clean, and they do it all. Somehow, the do it all. Me, I just.. I don't have that in me.
I wish I had that strength of character. I wish I had discipline and control. I don't. No matter how I try... I'm just... I'm not that kind of person. Ugh.
I don't.. I don't know how to fix this. I try. Gods know I try. But I just don't seem to have it in me. Makes me...disgusted with myself. I'll never be strong enough.
Friday, March 30, 2012
Queen
Having a Queen fest with youtube. Suddenly Somebody to Love popped into my head, and I just had to hear it again.
I find it painfully ironic that I didn't know who Queen was when Freddie died. In my defence I was 13 at the time. I distinctly remember hearing them announce it on MuchMusic.... Because I had no idea who Queen or Freddie Mercury was, or why it was such a big deal he was gay. I've never understood that particular prejudice.
It was only after Freddie's death, with all the media focus on Queen, that I 'discovered' them, and in turn found Rock N Roll.
Queen changed my life. I'm sure that sounds melodramatic, but it's true; I just can't imagine what my life would be like without them, without rock and roll.
I've always been a music lover, I get it from my mom. Before poetry, I had music. Such a powerful thing, to have someone speak to, speak for your heart and soul. Queen, did that for me, still does (as do many other men and women with guitars and attitude). They... they spoke to me, they soothed, they raged, they prayed, sorrowed, exalted with me.They made my passage from childhood to adult, fuller, easier, they helped make me the woman I am. And I don't think I've done too badly for myself. ;)
Also, while I'm being a sap, I gotta say, I cannot be happier to have the particular prayer of this ^^ song answered. Having somebody to love, I never thought I'd get it. All through my youth, it was my deepest wish, but the one I was most certain I would never have granted. Now, now my life is so much fuller of love, because I can see the love that's always been there in my family, and now my husband and his family. So much love spread around. But gods, I'm a lucky woman to have a man who loves me so very much!
Okay, no more sappy time. Time to knit! I've got lions to make! :D
I find it painfully ironic that I didn't know who Queen was when Freddie died. In my defence I was 13 at the time. I distinctly remember hearing them announce it on MuchMusic.... Because I had no idea who Queen or Freddie Mercury was, or why it was such a big deal he was gay. I've never understood that particular prejudice.
It was only after Freddie's death, with all the media focus on Queen, that I 'discovered' them, and in turn found Rock N Roll.
Queen changed my life. I'm sure that sounds melodramatic, but it's true; I just can't imagine what my life would be like without them, without rock and roll.
I've always been a music lover, I get it from my mom. Before poetry, I had music. Such a powerful thing, to have someone speak to, speak for your heart and soul. Queen, did that for me, still does (as do many other men and women with guitars and attitude). They... they spoke to me, they soothed, they raged, they prayed, sorrowed, exalted with me.They made my passage from childhood to adult, fuller, easier, they helped make me the woman I am. And I don't think I've done too badly for myself. ;)
Also, while I'm being a sap, I gotta say, I cannot be happier to have the particular prayer of this ^^ song answered. Having somebody to love, I never thought I'd get it. All through my youth, it was my deepest wish, but the one I was most certain I would never have granted. Now, now my life is so much fuller of love, because I can see the love that's always been there in my family, and now my husband and his family. So much love spread around. But gods, I'm a lucky woman to have a man who loves me so very much!
Okay, no more sappy time. Time to knit! I've got lions to make! :D
Thursday, March 22, 2012
Ahmen Sister!
This lady's story is both inspirational and sad.
I feel her pain, almost literally. Though I have a different cause for my pain, I understand where she is coming from. She is far braver than I. Her determination inspires me; it makes me want to fight for myself.
I'm getting better at pushing for what I need, but it's hard for me. I... Don't always know how to respond to doctor's who tell me they can't help me, or that nothing is wrong with me.
I am so very lucky to have a husband and our two families backing me up, on my side, and helping me learn how to advocate for myself.
Next week I go see a Doctor at a pain clinic in Toronto. I sincerely hope she can help me. Mostly I hope that I can actually speak up for myself and present my condition accurately, so I can get the help I need.
I know I'll never be pain free, Fibromyalgia doesn't have a cure. Hell, they are still trying to figure out what causes it and how it works. Many doctors don't even believe it's a real thing! I'm a realist. I dream of being able to manage my pain. Every day is a fight. Some days are worse than others. When it's cold and miserable out, there are more bad days, for whatever reason. In the warmer, sunnier weather, I do better. But still there is always pain. I just want to have some recourse when the pain gets so bad I can't think. When it's so bad all I do is curl up in a ball and try to sleep.
This woman has gone through so much, and spent years fighting with doctors and the medical system to find out what is wrong and how to fix it. Brave, brave woman.
I feel her pain, almost literally. Though I have a different cause for my pain, I understand where she is coming from. She is far braver than I. Her determination inspires me; it makes me want to fight for myself.
"Women have a high pain tolerance for a reason. We always thought we had to suck it up. If you think you experience pain that is not normal, ask your doctor. When they blow you off, ask again. And again. And again. My story does not have a happy ending…yet."
I'm getting better at pushing for what I need, but it's hard for me. I... Don't always know how to respond to doctor's who tell me they can't help me, or that nothing is wrong with me.
I am so very lucky to have a husband and our two families backing me up, on my side, and helping me learn how to advocate for myself.
Next week I go see a Doctor at a pain clinic in Toronto. I sincerely hope she can help me. Mostly I hope that I can actually speak up for myself and present my condition accurately, so I can get the help I need.
I know I'll never be pain free, Fibromyalgia doesn't have a cure. Hell, they are still trying to figure out what causes it and how it works. Many doctors don't even believe it's a real thing! I'm a realist. I dream of being able to manage my pain. Every day is a fight. Some days are worse than others. When it's cold and miserable out, there are more bad days, for whatever reason. In the warmer, sunnier weather, I do better. But still there is always pain. I just want to have some recourse when the pain gets so bad I can't think. When it's so bad all I do is curl up in a ball and try to sleep.
This woman has gone through so much, and spent years fighting with doctors and the medical system to find out what is wrong and how to fix it. Brave, brave woman.
Thursday, March 8, 2012
Don't Mess with My Parents.
The Honourable Dwight Duncan
Minister of Finance
7 Queen's Park Crescent, 7th floor
Toronto, ON, M7A 1Y7
March 8, 2012
To The Honourable Dwight Duncan, Minister of Finance:
There is no polite way to say how angry I am right now. I was raised by two wonderful people that raised eleven children including me, ten of them their own. They are seniors, on a fixed income. They own their own home, their own car, and they pay their bills on time. They taught me to pay my bills on time as well. This, I think, is a lesson you never learned.
I was at my parents house today when they got their tax assessments back. My Pa, who makes the same amount every year, whose taxes are taken out of his pension cheques, somehow owes the government $64.12. Usually they get $500 or $600 BACK. How on earth should he have to pay?
I understand that you have decided that the government changed not only the timing, but how they pay out property tax credits, as well as the Senior's Homeowners grant. I realize that six long months from now, AFTER they have to pay their property taxes again, they will finally see some portion of the money they are rightfully owed. Are you going to pay them interest for keeping their money so long? Because if they waited until they got a penny from you to pay their tax balance, I know for sure you'd charge them interest. Buddy, you have some nerve.
It's okay for people like my husband and myself. We aren't counting on that money for anything other than adding to our RRSPs. Now if we don't actually get all you owe us before we have to pay 2012s taxes, mister you are going to get another piece of my mind.
How dare you decide you know better how to handle Canadians money, than they do! That's not your job. You just want the money, their money, to float your budget. Like, I said, you have some nerve screwing over the most vulnerable people in our society. Now my parents, are very good with their money, they don't *need* their tax refund right this second to pay outstanding bills, but you bet your ass they want to see it before they have to pay their property taxes. But they won't, because they are due in June, and you aren't giving anyone a red cent until July. Nerve, mister, you have too much.
Also, explain to me what the hell kind of sense this makes? My Pa has to pay you $64.12, he's going to send that in, someone has to process it, then six long months later, you are going to go ahead and give him that back, and eventually more. As long as he doesn't die. How dare you! If he died, he'd still have to pay his taxes, or rather his impoverished widow would, but you don't have to pay him the money you owe him?! How can you look yourself in the mirror?
He's 84 years old my Pa. He fought in World War two. He raised eleven children. All but me have at least two more, and they have two more as well. My parents are the fountain head of a family of 60+ people, over 40 of which work and pay taxes in this country. Their story is not unique. And yet this is the group you decide to screw over?! What part of this plan ever seemed like a good idea to anyone who isn't upper middle class? Did you even bother to vet it with the actual working class you planned to mess with?!
Did you even bother to announce this change to anyone other than accountants and tax preparers? I never heard hide nor hare of this until today when I was trying to tell my very distraught Pa why he owed the government money. But I don't understand it myself. He's on a freaking fixed income. There are no surprises. What have you done wrong in collecting his taxes all year long that he now had to pay??
I just don't see how this makes any sense at all. Instead of doing things once, one assessment, one bill/cheque, you've turned it into three or four processes, taking up more resources. How is this possibly helping anyone, even you?!
I'm angry. I'm angry for my parents, and other seniors, students, and those on/near the poverty line. If you had to screw with someone, why not the middle class, why not the precious upper class? Why did you have to mess with those most vulnerable?!
You need to fix this. And you need to fix this now. It's not too bloody late to fix this for this year. You can just go ahead and do the assessments now, like you should have, and give people their money. At the very least, you should send all taxpayers eligible for credits a letter asking them if they would like installments starting in July, or if they would prefer their lump sum in July.
I just read a CTV article that stated you were going to include the option for payments of lump sum on 2012s tax forms. I sincerely hope a) this is true, and b) you actually follow through.
Next time you have a bright idea, I suggest you run it by the people who will actually be affected. At the very least you need to ensure Canadians know what's going on.
My parents are confused and distraught, and I am spitting mad for them. You know, I don't actually expect nor do I really care if there is a Canada pension waiting for me when I'm old, as long as you take care of my parents. And thus far, I see you are doing a piss pour job of it.
Sincerely,
One Very Disgruntled Taxpayer.
Minister of Finance
7 Queen's Park Crescent, 7th floor
Toronto, ON, M7A 1Y7
March 8, 2012
To The Honourable Dwight Duncan, Minister of Finance:
There is no polite way to say how angry I am right now. I was raised by two wonderful people that raised eleven children including me, ten of them their own. They are seniors, on a fixed income. They own their own home, their own car, and they pay their bills on time. They taught me to pay my bills on time as well. This, I think, is a lesson you never learned.
I was at my parents house today when they got their tax assessments back. My Pa, who makes the same amount every year, whose taxes are taken out of his pension cheques, somehow owes the government $64.12. Usually they get $500 or $600 BACK. How on earth should he have to pay?
I understand that you have decided that the government changed not only the timing, but how they pay out property tax credits, as well as the Senior's Homeowners grant. I realize that six long months from now, AFTER they have to pay their property taxes again, they will finally see some portion of the money they are rightfully owed. Are you going to pay them interest for keeping their money so long? Because if they waited until they got a penny from you to pay their tax balance, I know for sure you'd charge them interest. Buddy, you have some nerve.
It's okay for people like my husband and myself. We aren't counting on that money for anything other than adding to our RRSPs. Now if we don't actually get all you owe us before we have to pay 2012s taxes, mister you are going to get another piece of my mind.
How dare you decide you know better how to handle Canadians money, than they do! That's not your job. You just want the money, their money, to float your budget. Like, I said, you have some nerve screwing over the most vulnerable people in our society. Now my parents, are very good with their money, they don't *need* their tax refund right this second to pay outstanding bills, but you bet your ass they want to see it before they have to pay their property taxes. But they won't, because they are due in June, and you aren't giving anyone a red cent until July. Nerve, mister, you have too much.
Also, explain to me what the hell kind of sense this makes? My Pa has to pay you $64.12, he's going to send that in, someone has to process it, then six long months later, you are going to go ahead and give him that back, and eventually more. As long as he doesn't die. How dare you! If he died, he'd still have to pay his taxes, or rather his impoverished widow would, but you don't have to pay him the money you owe him?! How can you look yourself in the mirror?
He's 84 years old my Pa. He fought in World War two. He raised eleven children. All but me have at least two more, and they have two more as well. My parents are the fountain head of a family of 60+ people, over 40 of which work and pay taxes in this country. Their story is not unique. And yet this is the group you decide to screw over?! What part of this plan ever seemed like a good idea to anyone who isn't upper middle class? Did you even bother to vet it with the actual working class you planned to mess with?!
Did you even bother to announce this change to anyone other than accountants and tax preparers? I never heard hide nor hare of this until today when I was trying to tell my very distraught Pa why he owed the government money. But I don't understand it myself. He's on a freaking fixed income. There are no surprises. What have you done wrong in collecting his taxes all year long that he now had to pay??
I just don't see how this makes any sense at all. Instead of doing things once, one assessment, one bill/cheque, you've turned it into three or four processes, taking up more resources. How is this possibly helping anyone, even you?!
I'm angry. I'm angry for my parents, and other seniors, students, and those on/near the poverty line. If you had to screw with someone, why not the middle class, why not the precious upper class? Why did you have to mess with those most vulnerable?!
You need to fix this. And you need to fix this now. It's not too bloody late to fix this for this year. You can just go ahead and do the assessments now, like you should have, and give people their money. At the very least, you should send all taxpayers eligible for credits a letter asking them if they would like installments starting in July, or if they would prefer their lump sum in July.
I just read a CTV article that stated you were going to include the option for payments of lump sum on 2012s tax forms. I sincerely hope a) this is true, and b) you actually follow through.
Next time you have a bright idea, I suggest you run it by the people who will actually be affected. At the very least you need to ensure Canadians know what's going on.
My parents are confused and distraught, and I am spitting mad for them. You know, I don't actually expect nor do I really care if there is a Canada pension waiting for me when I'm old, as long as you take care of my parents. And thus far, I see you are doing a piss pour job of it.
Sincerely,
One Very Disgruntled Taxpayer.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)