I called the Social Security offices today to find out how much money I'll rake in monthly once I get old -- in two months. I spoke to a very nice young lady in Cleveland, Ohio who assured me that I was doing the right thing by applying for my own benefits to start once I turn 62 and that they could take care of it by phone interview.
Okay, the interviewer who initially sounded as if she had just been woken up from a nap (2 pm) and would rather be having a root canal also told me I was doing the right thing by applying for my own benefits now. I was almost giddy -- I didn't have to go sit in a horrible office and wait forever to talk to someone who would possibly be even less enthused about talking to me and they would see to it that I started getting money right after my birthday. What a wonderful world! I really need to have the rose tint removed from my glasses!
The lovely lady asked how much I earn and when I told her the embarrassingly low amount (hey, it's government work) she said, "I will pay you nothing. Nothing." Apparently, since I earn more than $14,000-something a year, I'm not deserving of receiving the money they have been removing from my paychecks since 1967. I was then told I could receive one check (quite small) in December because since my birthday is in the latter part of the year, it has to be postponed until Dec. Excuse me - since when is the fourth month considered the second half of the year?!
The woman actually turned out to be very sweet and we chatted a bit. The long and short of this interview was that anyone who continues to work full-time past 62 or who earns more than the bare poverty level is considered by government standards to be a moron or a glutton for punishment. I know I should be glad that I'll receive some benefits, but who knows if they'll still be there in four years!
The call made me realize that the organization is due for a name change: they're really not very sociable and our benefits are by no means secure.
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Maybe it should be called "Quite Unfriendly and Insecure Department." QUID for short. Isn't that a tiny bit of money, in England or somewhere? Which is, coincidentally, what I make.
Now, don't you feel better?
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