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A couple of months ago, I called the student loan people and they told me that I couldn't get any sort of hardship or anything because I wasn't behind on my payments.
I told Tony about it, and he said that since I was permanently disabled, the loans should be dismissed. So I called again and they sent me the form for that. I took it to my doctor and he refused to sign it because he wants to "take this disability thing six months at a time".
So today I get a letter that I'm behind on my payments. I called and got transferred around from one computer to another. Being talked to by a computer is like the ultimate insult to me, and I definitely refuse to talk to one. I finally got to India and the woman started talking about how to get a forebearance or a deferment. I have no idea what the difference is, or how to do that, but she kept expecting me to. I finally told her that I can't even understand a movie or TV show sometimes, and there was no way I was going to do this. Then she started talking about disability income, which I was fucked out of. I finally decided that maybe she didn't understand English very well, so I said, slowly enough to be insulting if she did understand it, "what...do...I...need...to...do...right...now...tod ay...this...minute?" I think I could probably understand that in at least four languages. That was it...she sends a form, I write 0 income, and send it back. I was on the phone 15 minutes, frustrated to tears, to get that information.
Of course there's always someone who has things harder than you do, but...
I once met a car dealer in Dallas named Goss. Goss on Ross was the name of his business, located on Ross St. On the back of his cars, he would put his dealer sticker, which said, "Goss On Ross....hope you get home". I told him that "hope you get home" didn't inspire a lot of confidence in the reliability of his cars and asked him why he put it on there. I'll never forget his answer...
"Because if a man can get home, he's doing pretty damned good."
I wish I could get home.
-denise
I told Tony about it, and he said that since I was permanently disabled, the loans should be dismissed. So I called again and they sent me the form for that. I took it to my doctor and he refused to sign it because he wants to "take this disability thing six months at a time".
So today I get a letter that I'm behind on my payments. I called and got transferred around from one computer to another. Being talked to by a computer is like the ultimate insult to me, and I definitely refuse to talk to one. I finally got to India and the woman started talking about how to get a forebearance or a deferment. I have no idea what the difference is, or how to do that, but she kept expecting me to. I finally told her that I can't even understand a movie or TV show sometimes, and there was no way I was going to do this. Then she started talking about disability income, which I was fucked out of. I finally decided that maybe she didn't understand English very well, so I said, slowly enough to be insulting if she did understand it, "what...do...I...need...to...do...right...now...tod ay...this...minute?" I think I could probably understand that in at least four languages. That was it...she sends a form, I write 0 income, and send it back. I was on the phone 15 minutes, frustrated to tears, to get that information.
Of course there's always someone who has things harder than you do, but...
I once met a car dealer in Dallas named Goss. Goss on Ross was the name of his business, located on Ross St. On the back of his cars, he would put his dealer sticker, which said, "Goss On Ross....hope you get home". I told him that "hope you get home" didn't inspire a lot of confidence in the reliability of his cars and asked him why he put it on there. I'll never forget his answer...
"Because if a man can get home, he's doing pretty damned good."
I wish I could get home.
-denise
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