Healthcare/Employment Update
First, I'll give some good news. I resolved the previously mentioned healthcare dispute. Really it was my fault. My initial provider changed names, albeit slightly, and sent me a new card, but I was under the impression that it was a entirely separate coverage plan. When I gave the office my insurance information, I gave them the cancelled plan as my primary provider, and the active plan as the secondary provider. Why they didn't immediately bill who I had listed as my secondary provider is beyond me. I suppose it was so I'd learn a lesson. I have more I'd like to say on this issue, but I think I'll postpone those ramblings until another time.
I lost my job. My supervisors decided it is best if we set a definite date as my last day and transition my responsibilities away from me. December 12th will be my last day. I don't have anywhere to go just yet. The Cyborg Ninja Defense Unit (or whatever code name I gave the position) gave me an offer two weeks ago. I turned it down in favor of my dad since he isn't ready to be on his own just yet. I have until December to reapply, and the current background check would count towards the new application, and I'd get an offer in a couple of months. The Demon Hunters have scheduled a polygraph test on November 15th, but it could still be a while until I get an offer from them. Not that it matters since I can't leave my father while he is still so dependent on others.
Really, there's nothing to be said that isn't glaringly obvious. Here's the inner voice dialogue that's been going on for about two weeks.
Rupert: This is ridiculous! We can't keep pandering to our father. Doing so is going to cripple Rob's future and ruin his life.
Robin: Well, we can't just up and leave him. Imagine the situation he'd be in: alone, handicapped, trapped in that house with no way out.
Rupert: That sounds like exactly where he wants to be. He has done nothing on his own to get better. This entire ordeal has been nothing but a means for him to extend his depression and codependency. He has taken no initiative to recover. All he's done is this past year is sit alone in that house, feeling sorry for himself, and anticipating that his problems will disappear on their own.
Robin: But he's lost so much in the past three years. His wife, his health, isn't it understandable that he'd be depressed.
Rupert: That's not our problem. Our problem is making sure Rob has food and shelter, and secure employment to provide those things.
Robin: Well, it's not like we don't have anywhere to go. We can move back in with Dad until things get resolved.
Rupert: What!?!? I hope you'll understand if that suggestion goes over like a pregnant nun. For years, YEARS, that house was a prison to us. All we could do there is sit alone and bored with no where to go and no one to go with. I spent that time working very hard, making and sticking to difficult decisions so that when we got to this point in our lives we could enjoy success. You actually want to throw all that hard work away because Rob's feeble minded father can't make smart choices of his own.
Robin: I understand. Those times were hard for me, too, but I can't handle the guilt of abandoning him.
Rupert: Why does it have to be our guilt? We made all the right choices. We stayed in school, we stayed away from drugs, we didn't elope with strangers or start downloading children we'd refuse to parent. Maybe taking care of Dad should be Brother's and Sister's atonement for all their years and years of nonsense.
Robin: Maybe it should, but you and I both know they won't do anything. If we leave Dad, we might as well be leaving him to rot.
Rupert: That's not our problem.
Robin: Yes, it is.
Rupert: No it isn't.
Robin: Yes, it is.
Rupert: No!
Robin: Yes!
Rupert: No!
Robin: Yes!
And it goes on and on like that, cycling over and over again. The family drama and stress causes insomnia. Interestingly enough, the insomnia kicked in on Thursday night, the day before my supervisors told me to get ready to leave. Perhaps I'm developing some degree of precognition.
I lost my job. My supervisors decided it is best if we set a definite date as my last day and transition my responsibilities away from me. December 12th will be my last day. I don't have anywhere to go just yet. The Cyborg Ninja Defense Unit (or whatever code name I gave the position) gave me an offer two weeks ago. I turned it down in favor of my dad since he isn't ready to be on his own just yet. I have until December to reapply, and the current background check would count towards the new application, and I'd get an offer in a couple of months. The Demon Hunters have scheduled a polygraph test on November 15th, but it could still be a while until I get an offer from them. Not that it matters since I can't leave my father while he is still so dependent on others.
Really, there's nothing to be said that isn't glaringly obvious. Here's the inner voice dialogue that's been going on for about two weeks.
Rupert: This is ridiculous! We can't keep pandering to our father. Doing so is going to cripple Rob's future and ruin his life.
Robin: Well, we can't just up and leave him. Imagine the situation he'd be in: alone, handicapped, trapped in that house with no way out.
Rupert: That sounds like exactly where he wants to be. He has done nothing on his own to get better. This entire ordeal has been nothing but a means for him to extend his depression and codependency. He has taken no initiative to recover. All he's done is this past year is sit alone in that house, feeling sorry for himself, and anticipating that his problems will disappear on their own.
Robin: But he's lost so much in the past three years. His wife, his health, isn't it understandable that he'd be depressed.
Rupert: That's not our problem. Our problem is making sure Rob has food and shelter, and secure employment to provide those things.
Robin: Well, it's not like we don't have anywhere to go. We can move back in with Dad until things get resolved.
Rupert: What!?!? I hope you'll understand if that suggestion goes over like a pregnant nun. For years, YEARS, that house was a prison to us. All we could do there is sit alone and bored with no where to go and no one to go with. I spent that time working very hard, making and sticking to difficult decisions so that when we got to this point in our lives we could enjoy success. You actually want to throw all that hard work away because Rob's feeble minded father can't make smart choices of his own.
Robin: I understand. Those times were hard for me, too, but I can't handle the guilt of abandoning him.
Rupert: Why does it have to be our guilt? We made all the right choices. We stayed in school, we stayed away from drugs, we didn't elope with strangers or start downloading children we'd refuse to parent. Maybe taking care of Dad should be Brother's and Sister's atonement for all their years and years of nonsense.
Robin: Maybe it should, but you and I both know they won't do anything. If we leave Dad, we might as well be leaving him to rot.
Rupert: That's not our problem.
Robin: Yes, it is.
Rupert: No it isn't.
Robin: Yes, it is.
Rupert: No!
Robin: Yes!
Rupert: No!
Robin: Yes!
And it goes on and on like that, cycling over and over again. The family drama and stress causes insomnia. Interestingly enough, the insomnia kicked in on Thursday night, the day before my supervisors told me to get ready to leave. Perhaps I'm developing some degree of precognition.