Tuesday, March 31, 2009

What happens when you don't pay a bill?

I wish he wouldn't do this.

They say about teeth: "ignore your teeth and they will go away"

It doesn't work that way with bills.

You ignore them...and the service goes away.

This morning, I picked up the phone to dial a number. Nothing happened.

I went to check my email. "Internet Explorer is not connected to the internet."

Strange....

I said to my father, "Something seems wrong with our phones"

His face fell. He went to his desk and picked up an unopened envelope from the phone company.

He handed it to me. "I can't deal with this. Please deal with it for me."

I opened the envelope. I read the header.

"Final Cancellation Notice"

Apparently, we'd been warned.

Apparently. we ignored the warning.

Apparently, they were fed up.

So I pulled out my credit card. I called the number.

I spoke with an agent, and begged for the service to be reconnected as quickly as possible.

Then I paid the $550 dollar backlog of months of unpaid phone bills.

An hour later, the phones were working again.

We're really lucky, ya know?

The electricity company takes a day to reconnect.

That gas company takes hours.

And now we know how the phone company falls in comparison.

It's a real shame though.

I would be happy to pay the bill when they come.

I don't like to run through automated systems until I find an agent.

I don't like to beg them to do it quickly.

I don't like to pay the reconnection fee.

But it looks like this is just one more nisayon G-d is giving me.

It's funny how it is one of my hardest.

Thursday, March 26, 2009

Reflections On Pesach Cleaning...

Having just spent a whole bunch of time cleaning my house for pesach, I found myself reflecting...

About a year ago, they started the foreclosure proceeding on our house. We started fighting back, stalling for time. One year, and countless mistakes by the mortgage company later, they are no closer to taking our house back than they were a year ago.

And so, yes, pesach cleaning is a real chore. Nobody likes doing it. But I am so grateful to Hashem that we still have a house to clean.

Wednesday, March 25, 2009

What do you think?

What do you think of this:
A teacher told her class that many people are suffering financially and that pesach is a big strain. She wants them to come in to her next class and hand in a paper telling her that they told their parents that they want to get less clothing than usual or spend less money than usual, to help the parents manage financially.

I have mixed feelings about this...wanted to know what everyone else thinks.
Thanks!

Guest Post: It's Real!

The following is a guest post emailed to me by a reader who's family is in a similar financial position to mine. She portrays an emotional account of what it feels like from "the other side". I wrote a post about people being careful what they say, which is obviously a tough thing to do, but please realize that especially Pesach time, there is a lot of financial stress on a lot of families.Discussion of gashmius, especially in the excess, is very tough for people like us.
She writes:

I walked into my office this morning, and I knew immediately it would be a rough day. The minute I heard what the conversation was I said: "Please Hashem, it's only Monday morning! Help get through the day without aggravation, without my coworkers making me upset." Two of my coworkers were discussing a family where "nebach the father just lost his job and they literally don't have food on the table." They couldn't understand it.
When will people begin to realize that people they know are suffering through this? Neighbors, friends, and yes, even your family are suffering. They literally don't have money. Its real. Its right here in your neighborhood. Real poverty. People who are not in this have no concept of what it means to not have money to buy food, clothing...bare necessities.
The way the conversation was flowing, I realized that this is the first person they heard of that doesn't have money. They were describing a scene that sounded so much like my family it was scary. The funny thing is, who would think? So far I didn't join their conversation. I'm just holding my breath, hoping they don't ask me to contribute toward their fund for this family.
Don't get me wrong. I would love to help them out, but you see-I can't .
I didn't have a penny on me (well, a penny I had, certainly not a dollar) and my tzedakah money is all given to my father. We don't either have money.
They are so naive it is unreal. I over hear them saying "The scariest thing is that so many families don't have money, but you would look at them and you would never know" Little did they know that one such person was sitting just 3 feet away. How could they know? Do they even know that when they are busy discussing their latest wardrobe for Pesach, I'm wondering where we are going to get money for matzos? And while they are busy trading recipes, I am wondering how we are going to buy food. I hear them talking about this one and that one who lost their job, but it doesn't even occur to them that someone can still have a job but not be bringing in any income. Those people certainly go unnoticed. The common response is "be thankful that they have a job." The ones that lost CEO positions, those are the ones who everyone knows about, but how about your neighbor who leaves every morning to open up his store, yet his income barely covers the rent? You think he has money to make Pesach, just because he has a job?
I just couldn't get over it. Later I informed one of them that I would love to give money for such a wonderful cause. But I just can't. I told them that unfortunately I know many people personally who are in the same situation as the family they described. I just gave yesterday! In all innocence, she told me she also just gave tzedakah yesterday, but she was talking in terms of $36, $50. I informed her that just yesterday I had given this family that I know very well $300. Her jaws dropped. She couldn't believe how I can give so much . "How well do I know them already? Its a good thing I didn't tell her about the $300 I gave last week. I silently blessed them that they should never be placed in a situation where they would understand.
I was so proud of myself that I was able to put on such a good act. I was smiling and talking about the latest Pesach preparations while pretending that I know where the money will come from. Money to cover my credit card debt that includes all of my family's Pesach expenses (my parents are maxed out). In truth, I do know. It's coming from Hashem.

An additional note from the author:
Dear coworker, if you are reading this and recognize some details leading you to figure out who I am, please keep it quiet. Don't make me the next topic of discussion in the office. We might not have money, but our dignity-we still have. The only reason I am allowing this post to go up is to make people aware of the current situation, and that it's not just something you read in the papers. Please don't make me regret my decision.
Thank You.

Monday, March 23, 2009

The Little Child And The Captain

I reach the harbor, I'm filled with anticipation. And, if truth be told, some trepidation. I see this massive ship docked in the harbor. I check my ticket, I look back at the ship...yes- it's my ship. And it's due to embark at any given moment.
I approach the gangway. I start walking up....
I am on the boat. I look around at all my surroundings. There, on the left is the galley. I hear the noise of the kitchen crew preparing dinner. To the right, I see a lifeboat. Something inside of me relaxes one notch.
Then I go up to the upper deck. The whistle is blown, the ship sets sail. I look around me....and all I see is water, water, and more water.
How in the world am I supposed to find my destination? I can't tell water from water, star from star!
I go down below, and take a nap. By the time I make it back up, and survey my surroundings, the harbor is out of view. Now, in each direction, all I can see is water...all the way to the horizon. I start to panic. How will I get there? How will I find my way? How will I manage?
I sit down on a bench and start to cry. An old man walks over to me and says "what is the matter my child? Why are you crying?" I choke out a response. "I...I...I don't know where we are going! All I see all around is water and it is so confusing! How will I ever find my destination?!?"
The old man looked at me and said "calm down my child! Can't you tell? There is a Captain, He is steering the ship."

Sunday, March 22, 2009

Monday, March 16, 2009

Just A Thought...


Are people any happier because of this?

Sunday, March 15, 2009

They Didn't Warn Me....

They didn't warn me....
That crying would mean bawling for hours and hours in a row.

They didn't warn me....
That crying would mean facing pain that I didn't even know existed.

They didn't warn me....
That crying would make the pain get so overwhelming it would be hard to breath.

They didn't warn me....
That crying would bring up memories that were buried for years and years and years.

They didn't warn me....
That crying would make me unable to eat or sleep for three days.

They didn't warn me....
That crying would render me unable to communicate normally.

They didn't warn me.....
That crying would hurt. Deep inside.

They didn't warn me.....
That crying would make me feel emotions I didn't know existed.

They didn't warn me....
That crying would make me want to strangle someone.

They didn't warn me....
That crying would make me lose the strength to go on.

They didn't warn me.....
That crying would make me lose the.....will to go on.

They didn't warn me.....
That crying would make me unable to cope.

They didn't warn me.....
That crying would take the excitement out of my life.

They didn't warn me....
That crying would make it hard to fit my mask back on my face.

They didn't warn me.....
That crying would make me such an emotional wreck.





They didn't warn me......

Monday, March 9, 2009

Approaching the storm

I stand at the shore,
the waters are untested,
the course is uncharted.

I have never dealt with anything like this before!

I don't want to get in the boat!
I want to stay here on safe,
dry land!

But life goes on, and I am forced to get in.

I explore the ship.
I greet the crew.
And we set sail.

How do I manage to put on a show of coping so admirably?

But look!
Right there- on the horizon!
A storm is brewing!

How much longer can I continue to hold back?

I lower the sails.
I prep the ship.
we must weather the storm!

I don't want to cry!

I suddenly realize-
I can't make it through the storm,
in this little boat!

The tears seem inevitable! I can't do this!

So I make a decision,
to turn back,
to avoid the storm.

I fight myself. Because I don't want to cry.

But the ship must reach it's destination!
There is no turning back-
We can only forge straight ahead!

I need to cry. I need to let it out.

I start to go back to the deck,
to man the sails,
to pass through the storm.

Can I even cry at this point?

I start to approach the storm clouds.
Mist is spraying on my boat.
The boat is rocking from the force of the storm!

Tears fill my eyes, threaten to overflow.

The boat is rocking violently.
I am holding on-
for dear life.

Can I cry? Can I not? How can I stop fighting with myself?

The boat is now hitting the storm.
waves crashing on the deck,
getting me wet.

What is this wet stuff on my cheeks? What is it doing there?

I can't make it through this storm!
I know my boat,
will capsize!

I can't let my only defense mechanism melt away!

I can't take the risk.
I can't try to make it,
through the storm.

I can't do this. I can't cry.

I have made so much progress!
I am almost there!
Just a little farther!

I have come this far! Can't I just cry?

I can't do it.
I just can't risk letting,
my entire ship overturn.

So I push the tears back to where they came from.

I turn the ship around.
I head back to shore,
to safety.

I stop my crying. Better safe than sorry.

I know this is not where I wanted to go.
I had a destination in sight!
But I can't make it there.

I am disappointed in myself.

I am not where I wanted to be.
But at least,
I am safe.

But I am safe.