Yesterday…all my troubles

Yesterday…all my troubles

Today, class, I would like to talk about taxes.  And politics and health insurance and allergies to mold which lurks particularly on shelled pistachios in grocery store bulk bins and government buildings in general.  I would like to talk about them, but not sure there is time for it all.  So, hang in there and let’s see what we can fit into the time we have left together.

Single moms in particular:  If you have not yet done your taxes, please be advised that the AARP will process your taxes for free at some local libraries.  Also be advised that you need to go in with your big girl tax panties on – the only pair I own (of tax panties) has EIC printed on them. Single working moms … wield these three letters and do not be afraid to use them when filing taxes.  Earned. Income. Credit.  You’ll get dollars and dollars more back if you do.  You’re welcome.  Also be advised that some of those sweet folk don’t know what they are doing.  And that’s okay.  Because after your third year of going there, YOU will know what to do:  your own taxes for free next year!  Done.  Smart choice.

Next, I wish to share with you my Affordable Health Care Fiasco So Far.  First I find out that I have to get it or be penalized.  During divorce proceedings four years ago I didn’t know that I could ask for stuff from the judge.  What I know now would have had the “me” back then standing meekly before that white-haired Catholic bastion of justice, batting my little eyelashes like a toddler at Christmas climbing into Santa’s lap, and unrolling my toilet paper roll’s worth of requests to be granted me on that Special Day.  But I didn’t know.  So I walked away without a lot of necessary stuff.  Stuff like health insurance.  I’m not bitter, just poor.  And healthcareless.  I’ve been lucky so far and, except for that one mold scare where I almost died from my body’s systemic reaction, I’ve been steady as a rock and healthy as a horse!  I couldn’t complete sentences, lost my memory of my children’s names (as well as names of things like “telephone”) and more than two items on a list of instructions was overwhelming.

Things like:  1.) Sign             2.) Here.             3.)_________________________.

Who needs healthcare insurance?  God is my insurance. 

Then there’s the law.  I can’t legally drive my car unless I have insurance.  So I do.  And now the law extends to healthcare insurance, but it has been made “affordable” to all, so “Run and get it, little single mom!  Run to Big Brother Santa’s lap and get your free healthcare coverage right now!”  So I did.  Run.  Because “they” said I had to and would be penalized all over the place if I didn’t.  Have it.  And I don’t.  Still.  Twice I went through conventional systems – once by appointment in person with a trained professional in the field.  Said training and aforementioned field unknown, but they were trained and it said “healthcare coverage guaranteed” on the door, so I was good to go.  Right.

They must have had mold somewhere in that office because so much of what went on there is a total blur to me now.   But I digress.

First they informed me that I didn’t make enough money to qualify for the free stuff.  That if I could figure out how to make (or fudge the amount I put on the “Yearly Earnings” line) $3000 more per year then I would qualify for free healthcare insurance.  That’s not a typo.  They said I needed to make MORE in order to qualify for subsidized healthcare insurance.  I already knew that I live below the poverty level.  They agree, but the required yearly earnings amount to qualify for assistance was $3000 more than what I earn.  Could I possibly figure out a way to earn a tad more – OR fudge the amount and put that on the line?  Worst thing that could happen is that I would have coverage for 2014 but would have to pay $300 next year as a penalty for having lied on my application if I didn’t succeed in making $3000 more than I claimed to be earning now.  Oh!  They said “Trust us.  We do this every day.”  So I did.  And I was turned down for some reason.  They told me to reapply by mail.  So I did.  And that didn’t pan out either.  My name was now in The System and I started getting voicemails from Marketplace “regarding your recent application.”  The first time I spoke with a representative for an hour and a half netted me this quote “You do qualify for subsidized health insurance in the state of Missouri.  However, they choose not to cover you at this time.”  Pretty close quote, anyway.  Maybe I should say “it grossed me this quote.”  My reaction was speechlessness.  Imagine that.

Next call came & I asked them how long it would take.  “At least an hour.  We never know for sure, especially if the system goes down.”  Oh.  I was on my way to work.  I told her I’d call back.  This was when I was applying just for myself.  Then I found out I needed to file for my children living with me as well.  Turns out that the state their dad lives in will not allow him to cover them under the new laws because they live in a different state than he.  Evidently someone somewhere missed the demographic detail that more than half of married folk get divorced and a bazillion of those (my demographic data language) have children involved and a rather large percentage of those children’s moms have moved away from the dads to the uttermost parts of the earth.  Go figure.  For some of those moms it means they’ve crossed a line.  A state line.  And his state doesn’t allow him to cover his own kids’ health insurance if they live in my state.  I’m appearing very, very not-so-smart at this point and I’m knowing it’s mold exposure now but am unable to stop the not-so-smart snowball’s progress because no-coverage-panic is starting to kick in.  Plus it’s tax season and I have to get that done, too???

Enter library AARP volunteer corps waiting zone.  “It’ll be at least an hour!”

Might as well get the t-shirt.

Redeeming the time is important to me, so I whipped out my laptop and filled out all the online forms for government healthcare while I waited my turn.  It took at least an hour.  I was careful to make sure that each screen was filled in properly and all information stored eternally in the government databases.  The finished app was displayed for review and I was asked if I wanted to make any changes (the tax guru number callers were almost to my number) so I changed one little thing, hit the “done” button, heard the done “Ding!” and was zinged back to

a completely blank page ONE.  I had filed for myself and two children this time.  And it was all gone.  I texted my children’s father (who sells insurance and processes 10 or so apps per day of this stuff) and he texted back “sometimes that happens.  They are having all kinds of problems at that site.”  Oh.  At least I had my taxes to look forward to.  That should be fun.

I won’t detail the hour-long tax process with the 70 year old trainee who hates computers except that in the discussion concerning dependents, the trainer pipes up and says “You don’t make enough for Obama Care.  They will just send you to Medicaid.  Don’t talk to them.  Just go and get Medicaid.”  One question.  Is it too difficult for the government Affordable Healthcare Act phone folks to ask one question?  “How much do you make?”  Is that too much to ask?  Really.

After the past two weeks, I have figured out the answer to all of these questions.  And if you will be so kind as to imagine a drumroll, here is that answer:

There is way more mold in this world than anybody can imagine, and more people are allergic to it than they may suspect.

The most mold lurks in government buildings.

That is all.